Lucifir came for a potentate bold.
He said “you have had power and wealth untold,
Now you must render me your immortal soul”.
The potentate sighed,
And made reply,
“My soul it died,
you will find nothing inside.
It perished long ago,
And vanished like the summer snow.
Once I had ideals,
and yearned to build utopia in green fields.
I have waded in much blood,
And sacrificed the weak for the common good.
My soul you had long ago.
I take your hand,
Now let us go”.
K Morris - Poet 
Reblogged this on theowlladyblog.
Thank you for re-blogging my poem Viv. Kind regards. Kevin
Reblogged this on K Morris – Poet and commented:
One of my earlier poems.
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A sobering poem.
Thank you, Liz. I can’t remember the precise set of circumstances which prompted me to write it. However, there are always potentates of every political colour (plus religious ones), so I’m sure Lucifer will continue to be busy on that front. Kevin
You’re welcome, Kevin. I expect you’re right about Lucifer.