There was once a poet, who sold her soul to the devil. The trade was simple, a soul that had no real value in exchange for divine inspiration.
“I want my Inferno, I want my Purgatory but I will forgo my Paradise forever after… In place of a non-existent heaven, give me fame ever-lasting. So that even when I turn to dust as I eventually will, my name will out-live me and my work will be the egregore written in the stars or the cyber sky.” said the poet to the devil.
There was a silence as the devil took a deep drag from his cigar, smoke curling upwards into the poet’s eyes.
“Your tears shall be the inkwell of your work… ” he smiled slyly… “After all, midway upon the journey of your life, you found yourself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost… and for you it will remain forever lost.”
Any day you strike a deal with me is a hallowed day indeed.
The beast was here all along…