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Death and Destruction

The writer talked with the man in the pin striped suit,
Sitting at the restaurant admiring the view of the city,
And as he wrote his notes he suddenly noticed,
How slow time seemed to be moving.

The writer spoke sharing his ideas,
About evolution and creation when the man intervened,
Ah, but there are stories of the first great war,
Before time began and that no one has ever seen.


It was an attempted coup… I remember that epoch,
A great army was cast down in a raging fire,
And though they were overthrown, it was only the start,
For the fight for the heart of man and their desire.

 
He went into details that seemed to go on forever
As the writer listened with shock and appall,
I’ve been there many times, I’ve witnessed evil,
I’ve seen wars, I’ve seen famine, I’ve seen it all.


Then another man in white suit approached them,
His bare feet were dirty drenched in tar and mud
Leaving a trace of his footsteps wherever he tread,
His smile vicious with jagged teeth stained with blood.

I hope you weren’t talking about me Azrael, he said,
  Don’t worry, Azrael responded, you’re not worth my breath,
Yet you’ve sat here with this nice man talking about us,
You’re so beautiful, Azazel said to the angel of death.

The man couldn’t get up, his body sat there frozen,
But his synapses firing had his perception entranced,
Watching these two otherworldly figures converse,
As it seemed they were locked in a spiritual war dance.

 Why are you here? Azrael asked,
  I came to witness our latest work up close, Azazel replied,
  Then be gone! Azrael commanded, I have work to do,
    Fine, fine, Azazel said, but we’ll see each other soon.

The writer felt death’s embrace approaching him,
  Don’t worry, Azrael said, it’s nothing you’ve done,
 But your time was up, you just happened to be here,
  It is written but all I can tell you is that you have to run.


Time began to move again and the writer breathed,
  Run! the angel of death told him, while there’s still time,
The black pin striped suit became a cloak of countless eyes,
And a thousand wings spread wide as he held his sword high.

Azazel rose in a fiery burst of boisterous laughter,
As the writer felt hell with a thunderous shock wave,
But by then it was too late, the plane had struck the building,
And the secrets of the universe he’d take to his grave.

You’ve spread hatred once again, Azrael later told him,
As the two sat in a café in another part of the world,
Watching people celebrate death and destruction,
Those are our tasks, Azazel said, until the end of time
Written by wallyroo92
Published
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