One of my earlier poems.
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”.