THE DEVIL’S EMPTY THRONE-POEM

 

Satan, you swagger in a borrowed crown,
A whisper of poison dressed in renown.
You promise the world, then leave it in flames,
A cowardly tyrant with countless false names.

You plant your hatred, then harvest despair,
You whisper temptation and call it “a prayer.”
You twist what is good, make darkness seem bright,
Then vanish like smoke when confronted by light.

You build up your kingdoms on envy and greed,
Feed lies to the hungry, then laugh at their need.
You poison the heart, turn brother from brother,
Make war out of strangers and hatred of others.

But here's your defeat, you miserable fraud:
Your loudest rebellion still answers to God.
You may bruise, deceive, intimidate, and crawl—
But darkness is darkness, and darkness must fall.

So keep your throne made of ashes and lies,
Keep feeding your ego with empty disguise.
The graveyard of evil will swallow your fame—
And history won't tremble at hearing your name.

You are not king. You are not free.
You're just a thief hiding under a tree.
A parasite feeding on weakness and fear—
A defeated deceiver pretending you're near.

So take your schemes and your poisonous breath,
Your promises, curses, destruction, and death.
For every dark road that you proudly have spun,
There waits one terrible truth:

You have already lost.