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(Photo credit: Andy O)
His eyes glowed like embers in pitch darkness.
He groaned inwardly and scratched his head,
waiting for word about the stranger.
The stranger appeared unannounced, Lucifer ducked swiftly, shocked.
His golden eyes moved in anger, he swayed unsteadily and mouthed the words,
‘Impossible!’
The stranger’s eyes was full of power, he opened his palms.
Spirits of the underworld screeched in fear, all but one left
Lucifer’s side, Tyrus, his son.
The stranger took the keys from Lucifer’s trembling hands and volcanic ash spurted out.
Voices muddled up, demons fart in disgust, Lucifer was helpless.
The deep grumbled in protest, the core of the heart rumbled.
The stranger floated out of hell, the keys in his palms.
Oh death, where is thy sting!
Oh grave where is thy victory.
‘You are but a stranger to your own,’
Lucifer spat out and the stranger, whom is the Lord smiled,
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