Lunch with Lucifer

Just the other day 
While out and about 
I heard my name 
In a frantic shout. 
'Twas good ole Lucifer 
And he appeared to be 
In a pitiful state, 
A wreck he seemed. 

In one hand he held 
A bottle of Jack, 
And in the other 
A bag of crack. 
I kindly took space 
And sat beside him... 
I softly asked, 
"What's the problem?"

 
With tears in his eyes 
He looked up at me,

His face quite sullen 
His voice ever meek.

"Why am I always 
The one to blame 
For the God forsaken... 
The global shame? 
I've my own to reap 
Don't you know 
Of all that 
I have sown. 
But all the others 
Have far outdone 
My sinful deeds, 
They've taken my throne. 
Yet day after day, 
Year after year, 
My name in vain 
I constantly hear! 
Hence the Jack 
And crack cocaine, 
I simply need 
A little escape!"

 
'Twas but a moment
Passed in silence
Before I nodded
And gently responded.
I quietly whispered, 
"Now there, there, 
Don't you cry, 
Don't despair. 
You have no blame 
For evil among 
The lot of us 
Old or young. 

Choice is ours 
We have free will 
To mend the hurt 
Yet choose to kill.
So, dear friend, 
The ones to blame 
Are those who covet 
Murder and maim. 
Evil are those 
Of this earthly village... 
Yes, those created 
In God's image."