The Devil’s Duplicity
Look at me drop everything, and cover myself in irony; Perfect lips, pursed, heavy sighs bottled inside of me; And so I stagger as I walk, richly clad in latency, with the awkward burdens of my unhappinesses; Trails of carpets under my dragging feet, to where the crowds stand, adoring a new celebrity; Clinking glasses I hear and toasts to what others’ drink, creating vistas of things, of unimaginable hypocrisy; I stand there, deplete, indulgent, and incomplete, with a raised glass, and the devil laughs, mocking me this quandary.
© soulreserve 2015











