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Inner demons haunt me,
everything is so hard,
but I have whom to turn to.
Once a man reached out his hand
and offered help
in exchange for something I had long forgotten I possessed.
Mephistopheles was his name,
far too complex for someone so simple,
handing out favors and delights,
he required only a soul.
I agreed at once, the deal was done,
riches and loves, all I ever dreamed.
But the payment was collected
earlier than expected.
Now I wander through the river of sulfur,
shouting his name and begging for time,
but he does not bargain,
his price is single,
no discount.
He does not bargain
with those who’ve already fallen,
you signed in blood—
now you belong to the void.
Wealth comes early,
but early comes the end,
He does not wait,
His is the time— and your soul as well.
I fought with what was mine,
but lost to what was inside,
a whisper promised
to ease the pain.
“Just surrender what is eternal,
and I’ll give you what is now.”
I didn’t see that what was eternal
had eyes only for the moment.
Outstretched hand, a lovely face,
lies in a honeyed tone;
there was no hidden clause,
only what was implied.
He does not bargain
with those who’ve already fallen,
you signed in blood—
now you belong to the void.
Wealth comes early,
but early comes the end,
He does not wait,
His is the time— and your soul as well.
River of sulfur,
echo of names,
“Give me more time!”
— “Too late, man.”
Contract read,
soul delivered,
pact sealed—
remain silent.
Single price.
No discount.
Who begs for time
ends in lament.
Mephistopheles never turns back.
Whoever has signed
never comes back.