Apolitical as I may seem
I rarely ever be,
For I am the residue of a tournament
A devious Trickster’s Meet!
Now I was born in a normal family
With some honest bread to eat.
We slept by dozens on empty stomachs
But were never preached to cheat.
Oh but the Devil is a cunning fellow
He knows how to make ends meet
It was none other than I
With whom he shared his seat.
Candies look so good in colour
Displayed on counters by the street
For I was only eight
In oblivion with Greed!
I held his strong finger
As he led me across the road
I left the shanty behind
And he took me for a stroll.
The world here seemed different
Everything had a subtle glow
Ashamed of my presence in this haven
I seemed to have walked out of coal.
He read my thoughts in tandem
As we rode on a bicycle of gold
He gave it to me as a gift,
This thing that he just stole.
This was my introduction to desire
And it rose as quick as it could
The flames rose like in a funeral pyre
Where the body burns with wood.
After a while as I sat down
To take some rest and relax my muscle
Music fell in my ears
The view changed to a colourful hustle.
“Where are we?” I asked,
A little cautious of the crowd.
For I had never seen such colour
Or heard anything as loud.
“A Tournament” he replied,
And flashed his devilish smile
I believed him in a jiffy
Unaware of his intent so wile.
We walked to the ticket counter
A lady with lips so red
Just bent over to show her bosom
“Boy, are you ready for the spread?”
The unsightly sight was unnerving
Yet something did lure
“I will participate in the tournament.”
I said, like I had never been more sure.
And from there my fate changed
For better or for worse
The game were a devil’s delight
And the prize, a camouflaged curse.
From stall to stall, from con to con
I moved learning tricks of the trade
For mastery may only be about one skill
But treachery was a two sided blade.
Little did I know that day
My innocence was sold not gone.
Remember the Devil held my finger
I was merely a delightful pawn.
There were levels to his game
A series of tricks set through
With every step my soul burnt a little
By the end there was barely some ashy residue.
But my zeal was out for envy
For my skin shone like gold
The Devil kept me on a platter
Little did I know, how I was sold?
There was no looking back
From where I had been
I asked him what next to do
He replied, “Politics is the scene!”
I pictured myself as a world leader
And the Devil’s laughter roared
“They are just pawns in the game.” he said,
“Son, you are made for more.”
And so a new game started,
A trickster’s delight
But the stakes were high
Not people but countries were to fight.
The con was never-ending
The treachery was destructive
So colossal was the trick
It fooled everyone who lived.
My fame grew three folds
But the curse had taken shape
I had the power to destroy the world
But my soul had no escape.
I saw countries fall to shambles
Mighty leaders fall from grace
And with every serving to evil
The burning glow glistened on my face.
People think I am an incarnation
Of Alien or God they say
But little do they know
Of my evil trickster ways.
Such is my mastery in con
That I fooled the master himself
Now I run the Trickster’s Tournament
The Devil’s Head adorns my shelf!