Knocking on the Devil’s door

waiting to collect your due

for delivering so many souls

standing there proudly smiling,

seduced by the surrounding

stench of endless death

knocking harder to be heard

for the Devil gave his word that

absolute power would be yours

while the hours slowly pass

the darkness grows,

shadows of lost souls swoop down

fear first comes to you

when these shadows of sorrow

start to gleefully taunt you

they whisper your name over

and over, thanking you for your

countless causalities of war

soon their whispers turn to laughter,

loud and mean, as you feel

their hot breath upon your neck

you begin to bang upon his door

hoping and praying

to be freed from this horror

your blood stains the giant door

as you crumble to the hard, dirt floor

weeping like a mother of a dead soldier

you huddle in a fetal position

with these shadows dancing above you,

they begin to jab and poke at you



then the door slowly opens wide and    

the snarling dogs of death drag you in,

the door slams hard behind you.