Devil in the Basement
An inherited guilt I bear My home, my haven, raised I was here Through summers superb and winters austere Our family’s home for generations elapsed It was rectified, fortified, registered, taxed But ever since I started living here alone From the shadows now and then echoes quietly a moan A lament without mourner, a story without teller A naked accuser waits down in the cellar Whispering from the walls Lurking through the halls I start to dream of a desiccated spring Surrounded by skinny bodies that to it cling With different skin and faces not like mine I wake up drenched in sweat, suspecting a crime So, in the cadastre I’m looking for a clue To find this house’s worth didn’t gradually accrue It was taken in a flash, evidence then swiftly razed Then replaced with a new culture and haughty self-praise Realize this was never mine As from the walls I hear it chime “The land you flagrantly claimed, it harbours no truth” Voices shrill accuse, I know no excuse For the sin in our nation’s youth The devil in the basement, he’s screaming my name Racks me in my dreams, while he plots and schemes His stories of theft and rape and shame Fear struck I run home The air now feels noisome All the houses look the same And all neighbours bear my frame Shut the door, lock it, bar windows, then rush to arms Peek through windows, neighbours now viciously contorting forms From below hear him, run upstairs, but still now calm From the hall croaking, he draws near, to bear my qualm And now I lie awake in my bed, the gun clenched in my fist as I feel: These walls were built for a ghost, to harbour the truth But we spoiled it all, sold out who we are Renamed the land to find that there’s A devil in the basement, he’s screeching my name Knows my every groove, controls my every move A mere pawn in his cursed game It all has been stolen, it’s all been a lie Millions purified cry from heavens high Even in sleep I keep an open eye For no one came to help me, and I am alone From his hellish throne came so I atone As from the corner of the room I hear him groan Aloft his glowing eyes two horns trump, in a bellow he speaks: “Shed thy hope For thou are mine No god will take thee from my arms again.”
Submitted by Pestilence — Jul 16, 2026