(The slow, heavy tick of a midnight clock fades into the dry rustle of circling crow wings through thick grey fog)
Temptation rarely arrives wearing horns and brimstone;
More often, it waits politely at a quiet crossroads with an easy smile and glittering eyes.
Just past three in the morning, amidst ruined streets and swirling smoke.
A Faustian bargain hangs in the cold air.
Until a sudden burst of golden light pierces the dark, forcing the soul to choose between fleeting earthly pleasures and eternal freedom.
What would you have chosen?
To be rich but held in bondage or to stay free, to be all you can be?
The story arc.
After watching Ghost Rider, I retired as usual.
And woke in a landscape of grey, deserted buildings.
Stood at a crossroads where a man waited.
The atmosphere was friendly and light.
Almost too friendly.
Looking back, when temptation comes your way, it's not going to appear all frightening, is it?
(A lone voice whispers)
Belial came to me late last night, just after three
With Faustian promises of riches and such auspicious delights
But as I prayed while he talked
As my faith shimmered but never once swayed
A beautiful bright light suddenly appeared and came my way
A soft voice
Spoke gently and held me hypnotised
As it whispered the tiny molecules of golden light which surrounded its form
Defeated the encroaching darkness
In every way
Listen not
To Belial
The Lord of the Flies
But to me
The divine messenger
From the Most High
Bend thy knee
And pray
Follow my decrees
Belial might promise you promiscuous sins of the flesh
Riches beyond all the eyes can see
I simply offer freedom
Beyond this lifetime
A rebirth on the silvery shores and golden cities
By the blessed holy sea
Be careful what you choose
You hold so much which you could so easily lose
As the clocks through midnight ticked
As each soothing voice echoed deep within the many recesses of my mind
What choices I chose in this life
I'll accept it as payment
When it's called
In time
For I now know I have something too precious to lose
My eternal soul which doesn’t want to wander
Forever lost
in the Bad Lands
Of the Burning Black Coal
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
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