The Fallen One

By Farhan Noor (Editor, Critic Magazine)

Your love is so pure, so true, that it makes me hate myself.
I deceive you with my cleverly woven web of lies
All intricately formulated in tears and smiles
To make you feel like a fool
Unworthy of my side
And yet you fall prostrate before the All Mighty, All Powerful
In thankfulness, in gratitude, every single time
When I just look at you in approval & nod
Without contempt, without disdain
Only but for a fiddling while

You apologize to me for my wrongdoings, for my mistakes
Beg for mercy, compassion, and forgiveness
Which I accept but not before humiliating you
Slapping across your sinless face
Denying your very existence
Every passing breath

I have deliberately kept you broken, starved, and tortured
And inflicted you with carrot-and-stick lovemaking
Set you against yourself, your conscience
Left you mutilated, manipulated
Spiritually bankrupt within
And yet, it is you, fondling my hair, caressing me
Praying for my health, wealth, and glory
Every passing breath

With your love so pure, so true, tell me how do I correspond?
I am, after all, the Shaitan, lord of the evil, the fallen one