Beelzebūb

Constantly blighting, I hear the drone of wings
Benighted from its cruel buzzing
The rotten prince walks from the gates
Humming deafening booming out its bombilate
Spew forth larva like a maggot volcano
Bathe in the thick whitish lake
How can you say no when it’s your own wake

Twist all of mankind to carry the weight of war upon their shoulders
So it may lay eggs in the rancid wounds of dead or dying soldiers
Its children feast upon human flesh
They eat the sloppy smelly meat quick and desperate  
And eat the bloody fresher bits
While tortured victims die in fits

The flesh of all beings is sacrificed and sworn to the demon with scores of eyes
And it feeds its primary vice
Kaleidoscope, scores of eyes
The price it adorns with resent
And scorns so virulent
All praise the Lord of Flies