Weekly Feature | When I Met the Devil, by Amirah Al Wassif

When I Met the Devil
by Amirah Al Wassif

Last night,

I met the devil.
He was in his wheelchair
moving through
the shelves of my library.
I kept silent
to watch him.
He hadn’t tusks
nor claws.
Only a powerful motivator
to absorb my diary.
I heard him
Repeating my words,
Saying them
In excitement.
The first line
of my diary
Made him sing
With cheeks flushed red.
The second line
forced him
To fly in craze.
I kept watching him
On my knees
If he paid attention
To me,
He would hear
The cracking
Of my bones.
The devil ate
my words
Stoned by
its delicious.
He continued
Orbiting around
My moments
In amazement
Until his eyes
Caught my last
Line
He sank in
Eternal sadness.
It was my first time
to see a Devil
Cries.
The devil
kept reading
My diary in awe
His strong tone
Changed to
Mourns.
I still remember
how terrific
His looking was
when he witnessed
my written griefs.
I also recall how
the salt rained down
from his eyes
while breathing
our tragedy
As humans.
I met the devil once
Since then,
I still wonder
Do our petty diaries
Have that ability
To turn the devil’s
Hair from black
To white!?.