DEVILISH TALK

Why are we devotees of a devil?
Why do we relish his talk and revel
In wild imagination and chatter,
Natter, natter,oh dear what's the matter?
He's the wretched slayer of all that's Real,
Full of stale garbage, planting a great deal
Of rubbish in poor worried anxious mind,
So our shining True Self's so hard to find.

It's time this rogue imposter was expelled,
Burnt to ashes, or on a stake impaled;
Then the soul can enjoy deep peace and love,
And all the blessings poured down from above.
He's egotistic and arrogantly vain,
To have him in our home is such a shame.