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Anger rot, anger devour, anger incite
A man to terror. By the cold moonlight
Was I sent to walk each and every night.
Forgotten, ignored, and unwantedly begotten
I cried to God for my pain to be forgotten.
Why did they cast me out as such?
They claimed it was for my touch,
But my hands are clean. Although much
I do not have; a thief? I am not such.
Those knaves leant upon me as a crutch.
Yet my position is thus; a wanderer
I am. Is there any reason to wonder
Why the people stare as though I plunder
Their goods? To them I ask, “Pray tell,
Is it really just I who is destined to hell?”
In a town of poverty, about a man of three
I heard much talk; he went to Galilee.
There he did preach of his divinity,
To a merchant I said, “Will you teach me?”
“Get lost you filthy thief”, said he.
Hypocrite, I declared, and cursed them all.
After lying down to rest, a voice did call.
It said darkly, “what would you like mortal?”
To which I hesitantly responded, “The power
To make all those bastards before me cower.”
“How would you like this done”, the voice
Did ask. “Since I am permitted a choice,
Then make water an insatiable desire, a vice
They require. As they drown I shall rejoice
And praise your name to the heavens thrice.”
Into town I ventured; them to die.
Many did my lips curse. With each did my
Happiness swell. I told them all a lie
In wishing them well. Tonight is vengeance
And thrice thanks. Between the two is dance.
Until night I waited for the dozens cursed
To drink from the river, quenching their thirst.
And many did come as happily I said, “ladies first”
With their mouths to the water, stomachs to burst
My broken pride was finally being nursed.
Suddenly my eyes felt like drought stricken wells
And my mouth felt dry and tongue began to swell. Bells
Started to peal as a voice comes forth and tells
Me of my imminent demise. “What have I done?”
To which he said, “Your pain has just begun.”
Screaming, pleading, dying and bleeding,
The voice laughed and continued feeding
My ears with words of torment. “Drinking
Up your water, as you wished. You have
Forgotten your one and only offering.”
“With the Devil you made a deal
And now your soul I’m here to steal.
I can but won’t help you heal.
Quiet now and listen. Can you hear?
With each drink you disappear.”
With my last breaths I did admit
My many faults and tricks. I fit
My boss’s gold into my hands while he sit
Idly by. Of the merchant I did benefit
By taking whatever I could get.
My crimes are many, truths are few
For me to habitually lie is nothing new.
After death my transgressions will be for review
And destination allotted, which is surely
Hell. For my life was not lived purely.
To my passions was I forever captive.
But this punishment while I live
Is injustice for he made that I give
My soul to him. Those people must forgive
and not utter of me any pejorative.