Devil's Game

By Sumit Butola

Description of the Poem

“Devil’s Game” is a raw and thoughtful piece that dives into the struggle between good and evil, and the choices we make along the way. With vivid images and clever rhymes, it tells the story of a man torn between the path of light and the pull of darkness, wrestling with temptation and regret. At its heart, the poem raises a powerful question — who’s really in control of our fate: God, the devil, or ourselves?

Devil’s Game

Hook: [A wave of his hand and the destiny glows.

Whatever my flaws, my thoughts, only the God truly knows.

He shows him the path, for him that he chose. 

And if he chooses to follow, then his gravity grows.]

He lets the man sell his soul, dwell in his criminal mind.

Pleasures of the mind, with the devil, his part-time client.

Stealing, lying, killing, sinning for the fortunes of the few.

And then he goes visits temples, while his perversities grew.

He thinks, he is safe, that what he stole was his fate.

Speaking highly of the lord, is his only known trait. 

Says, "To forgive and forget is the god's own vision.

If you seek your own vengeance, it only makes you human." 

But what he knows, though true, is only part of the truth.

A figment of truth, shared to him, on WhatsApp groups.

But it was a moment of bliss, that wasn't to last too long.

Before he knew it was the devil speaking to him all along.

Then he would crumble, repent, ask for his god's forgiveness.

But what could be done, for his god was the only known witness.

Burning in hell, he would know he was only a devil's pawn.

And he would wish, if only he had mind his own business.

But now shadows descend, screams softly creep.

And his pleas for redemption, the darkness will keep.

The price of his choices was eternally steep.

His soul was lost, while the heavenly angels weep.

Hook: [A wave of his hand and the destiny glows.

Whatever my flaws, my thoughts, only the God truly knows.

He shows him the path, for him that he chose.

And if he chooses to follow, then his gravity grows.]

By Sumit Butola