I Met The Devil Poem by Taiwo Olutunmbi

I met the Devil
a beauty carved from the first dawn,
the most stunning sight my eyes had ever held.
The bright morning star,
glowing like the sun,
wearing the moon like a garment of silver.

Her voice
sweeter than forbidden wine.
Her scent
a spell that unravels the mind.
No oil on earth could rival
the shine that clothed her skin;
a glory poured on her
before the world began.

She is a dark mystery,
woven in the beginning,
and every day
she deepens into shadow.
No soul meets her and walks away whole.

Yet she fascinates
she bends kingdoms like reeds,
and commands battles
she never seems to fight.
Even when she falls,
she falls like lightning
striking, burning,
never defeated.

She turns weakness into steel,
and her enemies into memory.
Cunning creature,
master of the serpent's whisper.

But no one can save her.
She chose her path
with eyes wide open.
And in the end,
the Abyss will welcome her
where she will laugh
in that strange, haunting way,
for hope abandoned her long ago.

There is no repentance
for the Devil.
Her glory will dim,
her radiance curling
into darkness.

And what of the ones
who crossed her path?
Where do they wander now?
No one encounters the Devil
and stays the same.
Those who follow her
grow fangs of their own
becoming shadows
in her likeness.

But there is hope
only for those strong enough
to break away.

What a powerless, powerful thing she is
a being fierce,
yet fragile beneath the fire.
Such contradiction clothed in beauty.
The Devil.