Life Of The Party [POEM]

Papa Legba said

he made a voodoo doll of me.

I think he's pulling my leg!

—Baron Samedi

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                ✦✧✦✧

                     By the way, I also stumbled across

                     an artwork of his wife, Maman

                     Brigitte, so I may or may not write

                     somethin' 'bout her as well like I did

                     with Hades and Persephone.

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╭          Bit of a Warning          ╮

Heavy Themes

Mentions Alcohol

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╭─── ｡(＾･ᆺ･＾)｡ ───╮

Life Of The Party

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ıllı Asya Saliy ıllı

Artist

#PoemsByKyrie

── =^._.^= ∫ ──

He is the master of Life and Death,

The other known god of the crossroads,

And he's the soul of the party, too,

Breathing life into the afterlife,

Oh, he will liven up everything,

Any mortals who had faced their end

Are welcome to stay, enjoy the night,

Party like there is no tomorrow,

Bring in the booze, even some spirits,

He'll start it off with liquid courage,

Be entranced by the sounds and the light

That shines the midnight circus called home,

Yes, this land of the dead is a home,

And what is a home if not the place

That feels just right, that feels so alive

That one might forget that they have died,

And the trapped souls, oh, they will be freed,

Sinners and saints alike will come out,

Away from whatever shackled them,

Not letting them enjoy afterlife,

He'll free the souls to the other side,

Let them taste the fire in their drinks,

Although choices were laid before him,

He still decides to throw a party,

Oh, and he also communes with those

That are yet to be buried beneath,

Give them a jest, and a trick or two,

As well as a cup or a jug of rum,

It's not a party of life and death

If there's no moonshine in every hand,

And this man likes taking centre stage,

Even if it meant burying, too,

Ah, yes, it's his job to guide the souls,

And who better than this bent dealer?

He may party like an animal,

But he's a businessman of the dead,

Time will come, when one's destiny ends,

Not by his design, though it works with him,

For once a soul enters the crossroads,

Pray you'll see the grim smile of this man,

Not Hades, don't ever meet with him,

For he will judge you, weigh all your sins,

And send you to the Asphodel Fields

Or to the burning River of Styx,

Pray not for the face of Ah Puch, too,

For restless would be your afterlife,

Become his slave for eternity,

Defiled, broken, left for second death,

Not The Morrigán as well, for she

Brings utter despair, signaling a

War that would happen, and it would mean

Casualties and innocent souls, lost,

And not Thanatos, for he takes those

That were still unripe, still not ready,

Anubis, though fair, still cannot give

The same joy as this Baron could bring,

Only him, just Baron Samedi,

his celebration and feel your

Pulse pounding so hard, that you'll even

Forget that your heart had stopped beating,

Share a drink or two with this Baron!

Get bewitched by this afterlife bash!

Forget all that you thought you have known,

After all, what have you got to lose?

── =^._.^= ∫ ──

ıllı Juan Davila ıllı

BG Photographer