The Devil and I

The Devil and I,
whispered among
the pines, conversing
lightly about how
the end was nigh.

Of eons forged,
of eons past,
we passed our time,
listing ages in turn,
until the last.

He was the Elder,
having seen the rise
of the sun, the gods,
and the newly-opened
eyes of the infant,


The Devil shared
with me all of the secrets
borne by the trees,
that stood in silent
witness, and agreement,
of this pact that
passed between.

Of eons forged,
of eons past,
all things must live
and die,
at last.

The Trickster’s gift,
I would find, is the
gift that opens the eyes
to the passing of ages
and of Eon’s demise.

Now alone, I will
walk in the pines,
to seek someone, with
whom I can share a life,
bestowed by the Devil,
the sharer of Lies.

©️ Obol, 2019.

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