He sits upon his deadly throne,
Dramatic movement of his brow,
Majestic manner in his tone.
He'll deign to look in your direction;
In his eyes a flaming glow,
One who'll persuade you to bestow
All the Evil in your soul,
To the Fiend, the ugly foe.
His blood flows black in all his veins,
He brings out hatred, cruelty, pain.
Acknowledge this my friend, and know
He'll try to get into your soul.
The fearful beating of a heart,
The rapid movement of a pulse.
His noxious sneer
Fills you with fear.
Graciously he waves his hand,
You're dragged down to his netherlands.
You shouldn't be too much surprised,
Knowing he could bring demise.
Humble servants at his feet,
He has no pity for the weak.
He just wants to rule it all.
Remove what's rotting in your soul
And leave it all to him forever,
The one who calls himself the Devil.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem