encountering Satan...

'How are you feeling,son?'
My boss asked,
Watching me with his insatiable energy and vengeful thirst,
Now that he had thrown around me a huge conflagration
That inched towards me every passing moment
With its tongues red, yellow and hot...

I felt the hairs on my skin
Getting into little mounds-black;

'Still want to be the God, son?'
My satanic boss asked
As sarcasm dripped through each and every syllable...

'Yeah! still! come'n!'
I cried out of pain, of anger,
As I smelt something burning...
My rubber-soled shoe and my skin;

The boss laughed
Seeing my pitiable state
Bereft of vigour
Awaiting the doom!

Every moment seemed like eternity
Never ending...stretched to infinite...

Just then methought
Death had arrived to give me life,
I heard the boss cry:
And then the conflagration stopped,
It just vanished,
As if it never existed
And I regained my losing sense...

'Hey! why you stopped that?'
I asked him, feebly,
(For a man who had seen death,
and the most inglorious and hellish one,
Being feeble and meek was the only option... )

The satan said,
'You've got awesome tolerance,
You persevered more than I had expected'

I stood up erect
And pulled myself towards him
To plant a kiss on his cheek...
out of no gratitude, no fear...
Out of love, perhaps...
And the satanic eyes twinkled
He just stared blankly for a moment or two and muttered:
'God! I'm so pleased to be the God, at least to one...'

I thought
I saw the Lamb in him;
I thought
I saw Him-The weeping child;


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