A Devilish Deal

Come one, come all, the carnival's here!
Bring your soul; there’s no need to fear.
Step right up to the Devil’s stand,
He’ll trade your essence for a sleight of hand.

The Dark One grins, his pitch refined,
“A bargain struck will free your mind!
Forget those rules of guilt and pain,
Just sign this slip and break your chain.”

“But what’s the catch?” you skeptics cry,
“What’s hidden deep within the lie?”
The Devil laughs, his voice a drawl,
“Oh, nothing much… just your mortal thrall.”

Religion gasps, the pews erupt,
“Without a devil, our sales corrupt!
Who’d buy salvation, grace, or prayers,
If not for Hell and its fiery lairs?”

So here we are, with goats and flames,
And theologians penning Hellish names.
They warn of demons with deeds grotesque,
But their churchly coffers grow quite burlesque.

The carnal sins they do condemn,
Were once old Pan’s own diadem.
Fertility, joy—now sins of lust,
Wrapped in fear and holy dust.

So strike that deal, make it brash,
Why burn in Hell when you can stash
The blame and guilt, the heavy yoke,
And laugh along at the pious joke?

For those who preach the Dark One’s lore
Should thank him daily, and implore:
“Stay wicked, vile, and ever cruel—
Without you, we’d be out of fuel!”