Watch and Listen to a Reading of the Poem.
“I give up,” – said Beelzebub, vexed with frustration,
his face, more livid than the fire, burning
in numerous corridors leading to
the great hall, where he sat, flushed, on his lavish throne!
A wary whisper of bewilderment
rose and ebbed through the ranks of his puzzled lieutenants,
as they looked on their lord, who hid his face
behind the licking flames of his hairy palms.
They wondered what ailed their master so vividly
but were too afraid to ask, lest his wrath
send the questioner with a corrupt scheme to earth,
‘O boy, O boy, doomed would be he on whom
such a curse might fall’, they all thought in unison,
for their schemes of late had grown less and less
sinister for human taste, almost angelic
compared to the latter’s own, almost fair!
Soon the tension inside that…
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