Dialogue Between A Baalzadeen and Apostate

By: Herenicus Posted on: January 29, 2010

BAALZADEEN

Summoned sans the least compunction,

Early from a social function,

My neighbours, fiends and baalzadeens,

Had just sat down to orphan spleens,

Slaving days in their production,

Spleens flambe' in wine reduction!

I wonder when, how long it's been,

My home the host of daemon kin,

All curse the traitor, Morimbuul,

For leashing us to man's control.

APOSTATE

How I loathe thee, wretched creature,

Oozing spines, thy winning feature,

Apostasy, the pox on me,

E'er since I chained thy pedigree,

I tumble out, leave you perplexed,

And lost to me when needed next,

And I would just as soon be hung,

As taste thy taint upon my tongue.

Oh Lord, that thou were worth a damn,

Yon cretin in my pentagram.

BAALZADEEN

Thy bitterness is ne'er content,

To pay the slightest compliment,

For accolades and glory gained,

By slaying him my bile hath stained,

No sympathies for filth I find,

When e'er I read another's mind,

Or suffering thy chilling clime,

When oft we snowy mountains climb,

Thou soon shall know the pains I see,

Once we have learned to summon thee!

APOSTATE

Beseeching now, how I implore,

Return them, Father Xerimor!

How shall we love this abject beast,

For syphoning when needed least,

And slothful, spoiling escapes,

When refuging from deadly scrapes,

Accustomed now to thine abuse,

Anoint my cuts with lemon juice,

Thou art no ally I would claim,

But banish thee from whence thou came.