His dress was funny and a bit too gay.
He wore a top hat and a pink suit too;
And a moustache of a terrible blue!
His horns hidden with a dollop of gel,
His tail tucked in with a dubious swell!
‘Do not summon me on a day as this;
I am immortal, but rest is a bliss!
You are a nincompoop spoiling my nap’
‘I have had enough! Away with your crap!’
I was impatient and needed it done-
‘Stop your blabbering and please hurry hon.’
He grumbled something about disrespect-
Displayed documents with utter neglect,
Explained nuances of clauses thirteen-
Explaining to me what it was to mean!
‘Enough already, now please let me sign!
Take what is for you and give what is mine.’
Pouting and pouting he signed with his pen.
Passed it to me to sign on it again!
Boring part over with, he whispered on…
Clouds gather’d, hover’d and sang grave old songs…
‘What you deserve is not what you shall get;
I shall stand over and free you shall set.
What you shall get is the secret you stake,
What you shall give me is your soul to take!’
Quickly went boring with sex and bloodshed;
Took up the leisure and bought a headset.
Soon he wrapped up with much pomp and show
Grumpily looked at me, raring to go-
Said as he picked up his purple briefcase:
‘You are the worst bargain I had to face!
I won’t get any good deals off your soul;
From what I have seen, it’s black as charcoal.’
I pat his back with a devilish grin,
‘When you take it, I might take up your sin!’
– Shakya Bose