I told myself the Devil wasn't pitiful

I told myself it was the sanest kind of misfortune, the type that was neither fruitless nor achievable, that the devil was probably the least pitiful thing in existence. Regardless of his solitude and regardless of his inevitable calamity, the only pitiful thing about him was what he rules. For when he asked me-us to change….I did it single regardless of the wholeness I did or didn’t receive as a result. And when he came in so many different forms, he followed me where ever I went...he was inescapable. 

I learnt the hard way that even though this was true...he was not unchangeable, not bound by the complexity of his power or by the strength he had over his hell but bound by the demons and souls and the factors that made hell. For hell is not a place but an army, an army created by the things that follow and the things that mindlessly flock behind the king of the underworld.

I told myself that he was the misfortune that evoked the great troubles of our world and he was...he is. However, it is his army of hell that continues to encourage him and continue to encourage his destructive and disruptive behaviour. His inevitable mind control will lead to hell’s demise but then again hell is already a place of demise, hence the reason it is not called heaven. 

To hell, there is no heaven because it is physically impossible for hell to become heaven in its absence. The only way it can become such is if hell and the army that was hell completely revoked the devil as their ruler, completely prohibited him to control them. Only then can he become pitiful, for then he will have nothing to make him powerful...and we would be free. Free for self-expression, free to love and free to say that we as hell were more than the devil, more than what he was and what he commanded.