It’s that horrible grey time of year again, and so ditto for my annual grey-skies related poetry treat; for as is said by they: every cloud has a silver lining.
With thanks to Slaytina for use of the header image.
It’s said Satan dresses in red
And is always surrounded by fire
It’s also said the Devil
Will take a beautiful form
One people will least expect
But I think it’s neither
That Beelzebub is far slyer
Choosing to appear
Always as grey
A morose looking sky
Nothing but a slab
Of dull overcast pressure
Uniform in its covering
The usual blue and white
Not a single hint of sun
The sort of grey that
Had the ancients run
Around as crows
Offering up sacrifice
In the name of renewal
Sky again clear
Sun abundantly in it
Plus also
The clothes and hair of the elderly
The grey they adopt
So as to blend in
Colour fading from them
As they move ever closer
Toward the finality
That ancient renewing
Hoped to avoid taking earnestly
The Devil not appearing
In the cut or style of dress
But Satan the colour
And the Dark Lord now
Rumbled
Must act to convey
Nothing of the sort
Start adding the dreary hue
To sneakers and trainers
Make it appear
Appealing to the young
Not just domain
Of the old and frail
Grey sky at night
Devil’s delight
Grey sky in morning
Satan’s calling
For dreary desolation
No greater evil
Then destruction of light
Grey sinner
Harbinger of depression
Lover of despondency
Loss of purpose on this Earth
Leaving one not in quandary
But a quagmire of
Lacklustre attempts at
Decision
All encompassing greyness
Flatter than a frozen lake
Has me in
Its abundant grip
Like a greedy child
About to devour
A favourite sweet
In the Devil’s imagined abode
The sinner is tortured and burned
Screaming with pain
And anger for their aggressor
Active
But here on Earth
In the realm of real
The grey is omnipresent
Sun gone to replenish
Its goodliness
For much longer than just a night
And the air taken too
Leaving what’s left
Sitting too heavy to breathe
The horned one winning
Winter the Devil’s cloak
Leaving me limp
Unable to resist
Stunned and listless
Incapacitated during
This brief moment called life
To make here and now
Hell
Thanks for reading 🙂
N. P. Ryan
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