How To Sell Your Soul (A Brief Guide)

We have all thought of it once or twice. Even more often than we would care to admit. We have all considered the attached benefits that would follow it and the limitless enjoyments that we would achieve from such an endeavour. It would sound so easy, glamorous and cool, as we have all seen people around who we believe have done it and it seems to be panning out just well for them, considering.

Why do we hesitate to do it, though?

Maybe its the fear of the ugly repercussions promised to those who venture down such a path. We have heard tales, read books, thought thoughts. All of these work to dissuade us from partaking in this forbidden fruit. We weigh these against the pomp, glamour and pageantry and we still find them wanting, so we remain in our squalid conditions, for fear of what might or might not happen.

But then again, it is a good life, is it not? We want to do it, and with every invitation, we want to do it more and more… and more. By now, I believe you already know what it is I speak of.

Yes. We all know the story of John Faustus and the deal he made with the devil (Thank you, Marlowe for the grisly ending). Some of us have read The Sorrows of Satan and appreciated the sweet and sour imagery. We have all watched movies like Ghost Rider and imagined we would not spend such a wonderful gift riding motorcycles or any dumb shit like that (forgive the language). We already have mapped out all the insane debaucheries that we would invest in, given the opportunity.

Yes… but these things are for the brave. Men like Niccolo Paganini, Father Urbain Grandier and men of talent like Giuseppe Tartini. Not for cowards like you and I. Our part in this is to celebrate and document all the activities of the brave who can afford to be reckless with their souls. Yet again, among the weak, there are some with leonine souls that can shoot forth in brilliance and seize the opportunity when it pops up. This work is for them. This work is a somewhat detailed treatise on how to sell your soul to the devil.

    1. KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING: Selling your soul is a treacherous thing. It is not as straightforward as traipsing into Walmart for a Snickers bar. No. It has real repercussions that must be duly considered or the Devil will attempt to rob you blind. Persons who sell their souls are often smart people or they do so with the help of a guide to work out the kinks of the relationship. What many people underestimate is the willingness of the Devil to obtain their souls… however, He will attempt to exploit any loopholes to cheat one out of his due resources. Selling your soul entails making a pact with the Devil to remain in Hell after death in exchange for a few earthly pleasures while alive. The terms of the arrangement must be worked out to the finest detail (A good lawyer would help), to ensure that no party get ripped off (in this case, you). You should be aware that this deal cannot be reneged on with ease, and once it has been signed, it is binding. You may as well want to take note that you are the only one with something to lose. If that is fine with you, then you can move on to the next bullet point.
    2. HAVE SOMETHING TO TRADE: It is a trade, however you decide to regard it. Before the trade can occur, both parties must have articles to trade. The Devil has his own part locked down and has more than enough articles to trade and spare. However, the individual should have something valuable to deal. The person has to have a pure soul or some innate talent that can be exploited by the Dark Lord. Besides the fact that he is expanding the client base of the infernal regions, He needs to get his message out. His customers may be among your circles. As a matter of course, it is often individuals who have somewhat distinguished themselves in certain fields. We have names like Paganini, de Rais etc. This doesn’t mean that untalented people have nothing to offer. The more popular and noted transfers are of people who are extensively talented. The bottom line is to have something to trade, however minuscule it may be, and I am sure that you and the Dark Lord can work out a deal. The weight of the deal, however, depends on how much he can mine out of your damned soul.
    3. KNOW WHO YOU ARE SELLING TO: Most people think that the Devil is the only individual who is in the market for souls. There are a lot of other entities that are in the market too. I cannot mention them for fear of copyright infringement, but they are there. You must be certain who you are selling to. I cannot assure you that the Devil’s rates are the best, but I can tell that you will get what you ask for… at an impressive price, nonetheless. There are books and tutorials on how to summon the Prince of Persia, also detailing how to recognize him when he shows up and how to address him. If you are not the summoning type, there have been accounts of places where you can go and find a direct line to the Devil himself. Note that he is not Omnipresent. He might send an assistant to keep you company as he has a lot of work to do. Just be patient and he will get right to you. Your business is valuable to him. Now, do not talk terms with anybody, even in a representative capacity, as you will most certainly be ripped off. Just wait until the big kahuna comes along and present your bargain.
    4. KNOW WHAT YOU ARE GETTING: When you purchase an item at the market or store, you inspect it to be sure you are getting what you paid for. If it was defective in any way, you would promptly return it and ask for a replacement or a refund. Now, this would be difficult if you did not know what you were buying in the first place, wouldn’t it? Sure it would. So be sure of what you are asking for and don’t cut any corners or sell yourself short. You are paying prime dollar for this, so the services should be worth it. Maybe not dollars, but you get the point. Therefore, renown experts in this field have advised that you make up your mind before entering the transaction, as some of these spirits are nasty and difficult to get rid of if the heart is not pure. Read all the terms of the contracts (there could be several sub-contracts, like veganism, etc). Be sure of what you’re walking into. Be sure of the bargain you are getting.
    5. FIND THE DEVIL: There are various accounts about the devil and they mostly do not seem to be talking about the same dude. For these purposes, we are referring to the Judeo-Christian devil as he appears to be the most popular and has a more detailed account in his honour. He is also the one who appears to be in the market for souls at the moment. According to the Bible, the Devil warred with God and His angels and got cast out of heaven onto the earth. This account means that the devil would naturally be within the earthen domain and therefore, more easily accessible. We have found that this is not so. Many people have rendered accounts of running into the devil at one time or the other, but who trust the words of crazy people (insert laughing face smiley here)? We believe that the absolute best way is by summoning. I highly doubt that he would be living in some cave with horns and tails like some Krampus or be an elegantly dressed elitist playboy. No. I believe he would be more subtle than that. There are many tomes that give detailed instructions on summoning and what-not but that is not what this article is about. Give them a look-see and determine for yourself if you’d travel to the devil or rather have him come to you.
    6. SET THE DEAL UP PROPERLY: Like I mentioned before, there are a lot of nuances and necessary politics to this transaction. To make this contract, you need to know what you can and can not do. For example, you can introduce a 100-year life extension contract. The devil will not tell you this but it is a negotiation. It is not his problem and frankly, he’d prefer to close the deal soon as possible. You are already going to burn in the fires of hell, so, why stop at age 80? Live it up. You only get to do this once. Do some research and know what the negotiating terms are. Find out what your options are. I repeat… do not sell yourself short. For copyright reasons, I cannot give you the sources to research your options, but with some searching, you can find it. I have faith in you.


  • ENJOY EVERY OPPORTUNITY YOU GET: Certainly you will have the dark cloud of impending demise and condemnation hanging over you like the fabled sword of Damocles or even worse for the rest of your life. The trick, though, is to not dwell on it. You technically can not pass away until your deal is done (we think), so exploit every opportunity to enjoy your life. This is imperative to the deal. Why pay all that money for a luxury car and end up not driving it past 2,000 miles? Enjoy the luxury.



In conclusion, I would like to say again that this is some serious business and it is not to be taken lightly. Even though it is mostly irreversible, and a middle finger to the devil, you can attempt to snatch your soul back by running to God and hoping His divine mercy finds you worthy. Know that if this fails, you will not be a very welcome guest in the fires of hell. Also, please do not try to sell the soul of a friend or a partner or any other human being. This is a very messed up thing to do. It is not good and I even doubt that the devil would accept such a bargain. It does not matter if you have the person’s written permission, signed by him and witnessed to by his parents or legal guardians. It is messed up. Those parents too, who attempt to sell their children before they are born and end up tying down everybody’s future in a stupid contract for a few more hectares of farmland, you are terrible people and you deserve to die.

If you read this guide and the trade works well for you, please be sure to look me up. I would appreciate a few thousand bucks as a way of saying thank you. Remember that this is a labour of love and I do not want the idiots to win.

Thank you




Ma Belle Reine

Meadows swaying in the golden sunlight

Amidst quiet bird calls and fluttering dragonflies

Beauty unrivaled, she kisses my fancy

Every second she crosses my thoughts

Lonely Brook and bubbling stones

Lonelier koi weaving between swaying weeds

Every smile is a trip to dreamland

Remind me what wood nymph you are

Ever ringing witch of sweet minstrelsy

In my heart, you rhyme with every beat

Never have I wished for anything more

Ever dauntless; until God’s will undoes us

Song To My Beard (Music of The Clean-shaven)

O beard, you elusive beautiful mask

Adornment for my lower jaw

You frame my lips in handsome shade

And conceal any unwelcome flaw

I wear you in different shapes

Sizes and even different short lengths

I stroke you in my idle moments

While weak or peaking in strength

Alas, you now must leave me be

For you are a subtle waste of time

You stop abruptly after a while

While before you grew sublime

I needed you to be longer

But you stopped short of my dreams

And would never move an inch

Despite the mix of creams

I will bid you Godspeed

Amid waves of Gillette and razor buzzes

No longer will I feel you

Warm and prickly and fuzzy

O beard, prickly adornment of my visage

Fall from here, depart from my face

My handsome masque, my beautiful craze

Fall from here with all your grace

Brunus (April, ‘18)

The Jester

Look as he lies, quiet and serene
Eyes shut with that queer smile
Now, troubles, where have you been?
Can you no longer trouble this man awhile?

He lies staring through lids
Shut at the wise old sky
Surrounded by wreaths and orchids
But their beauty trouble not his eye

Through watery curtains
They dismay at his calm
In grey and dark attire and sequins
Heavy glasses and quiet psalm

They say to me “do not stir
Do not make a sound for he rests”
My reply is a hearty sneer
For surely from the grave, he jests

This is a man, just deceased
He has gone to be with his maker
He is no more within this
Hunk of meat and bone and blubber

Yet behind watery curtains
And hats with beautiful feathered crests
They hush me behind those sequins
But he, from beyond the grave, jests

Song of Vengeance

Our God has delivered our enemy into our hands

Multiplier of our dead… Destroyer of our lands


Our mothers have cried

Huge tears of bleeding sorrow

Mourned the pillaging of the sacredness

Of our innocence

Their tears sowed the crop

That our souls now reap

Our mothers mourned

Their dead while we danced

Chanting hymns to our long dead

Bled by the great destroyer

But on we danced

Trying to forget the hate

That ran in our veins



Our God delivered our enemy into our hands

Multiplier of our dead… Destroyer of our lands


We are born of hate

And we thrive by it

Toil we may away from this truth

But like the sure roots of the oak

We are tethered by our nature

We seek our foes

And where we find none, friends

And where we find none, deities

And where we find none, gods


Our God has delivered our enemy into our hands

Multiplier of our dead… Destroyer of our lands


Now we dance the dance of vengeance

Against he who made us dance

For the song of the owl

Is not heard when the sun lives

Brandishing weapons of vengeance

We dance with sure feet

Around the fire kindled by kindred hatred

Screaming in ululations



Our God has delivered our enemy into our hands

Multiplier of our dead… Destroyer of our lands


Blessed be…

Our God in all his splendour

Our protector and benefactor

The one that caused the Brook

To bubble with food and fish, look

And praise his works, mighty one

The only one above the sun

Blessed be…

Priest and messenger to our Lord

The face of the unknown we can afford

He who dines with the spirits

We hail thee… For this kindness

We who have not slept thank you

We who deny rest praise you


My God has delivered my enemy into my hands

Multiplier of my dead… Destroyer of my lands

The Sage in a Rage

I awake…I am in a rage… I have to do damage to demonstrate my rage. It’s funny to see at my age. A sage in a rage doing damage at an old age. I see you laugh at my fits of rage that arises to a stage that I must give birth to a page that points out the system of my rage.
I wake in a rage in my cage with people from my village coming around…smiling,pointing and laughing at the sage,in a cage,in a rage. My age gives of the power to pillage and destroy and wage war against the village. Do damage,throw down and cause haemorrage.
I scream at the top of my voice,calling to the feet of the earth to come and like the Rhino,stamp out the flames of my rage.
At this stage,my cage bears such marks of my rage that the people of my village cannot believe that the sage at this age can wage war and cause so much damage to his cage on a page but this cage cannot hold this sage down so the damage and carnage will never cease because the chains can never hold down this sage in a rage.
Come and see the sage’s cage where he did wage war on the forces of bondage and came out victorious. A wonder to this age.
I had to paint my image as a sage to alienate me from the scrummage in my lineage. To encourage me not to look like the average garbage or the spillage from rubbery leakage.
In those moments of rage,I held you hostage to my advantage,leaving you wondering:WHAT IS THE LINKAGE BETWEEN THIS SAGE AND THE GODLY HERITAGE?
Sipping mugs of alcoholic beverage or eating plates of raw cabbage will not give you the leverage you need to understand my language.
I know you have tried to guage me by different means of espionage,but my hermitage is duly concealed by herbage and green lush foliage.
These days, I am a mirage. A wandering image that thrives off your shortage of knowledge and perhaps ample storage of ignorance… I will sabotage your mortgage,swapping you,leaving you in my cage,and covering you in my page.
This is the image of a sage in a rage,who will not be stopped or distracted by cleavage or bondage. Any attempt at the stoppage of my colossal image will erupt in a disabling display of my volcanic rage.

My Identity

You want to know my identity? You tickle my risibility with the apparent gravity of your inquiry. Well, maybe my perspicacity will treat your abnormality and hostility as insecurity; but the clarity of your activity can be judged a lack of lugubrity, racuity, or better still, laxity in the performance of responsibility.
I am a gentleman of utility, an entity of dignity, modernity, sanctity and virtuosity. A trinity of nobility, sanity and perpetuity. Continuity down in human form. I am a celebrity from a renowned university. My versatility and vivacity accord me notability and viability. Don’t you dare doubt my dexterity. My volubility gives your cerebral viscosity the appearance of voracity. Vitality or agility of posture has scant to do with my tangibility. You’ll have to be witty to follow my ambiguity.
If you know the validity of my personality in this vicinity, you will not possess the opacity or stupid tenacity to question my authority or veracity, and you will know I have the audacity and ability to commit any atrocity in this community. I guess my perspicuity has befuddled your mentality and overwhelms your capacity to comprehend my paternity. That’s the immunity I enjoy in this society. When I come around, it’s festivity.
All through the eras of humanity, there was never any equality or equity. All we had was one party forced to humility, captivity or density by the polity of another. Then you think because it’s your city and your facility and you are majority, you have attained complexity. But the futility of your pomposity is rather stupidity and it fills me with pity at your vulnerability. Your legality and availability depends on our amity and my hospitality. I’m giving you the nitty-gritty of the monstrosity of your iniquity so you’ll appreciate the unity in my purity and neutrality. No matter your quantity or multiplicity, my quality and superiority will always marvel and defeat you till eternity.
Your weak malignity and affinity for vanity also stains your posterity, giving you conformity or uniformity with immorality or rascality always rushing with optimum velocity to the maternity at every opportunity. In clear visibility of this whimsicality and disparity and negative publicity, how can you now rush up to me to claim sorority or fraternity? It’s profanity! Profanity wreaking calamity!! You sit in awe of my masculinity, talent generosity and multiplicity. That’s why I won’t let your imbecility stain my virginity or nativity. We have no compatibility.
But this is reality. Call it a verity or the unanimity of sincerity. In the rarity or scarcity of necessity and prosperity, the gratuity is proclivity or propensity towards propinquity or gaining proximity with popularity and felicity. You are gaping at my flexibility and selectivity. This is syntax, my friend… Syntax of a deity. Come closer.
Just for the sake of curiosity, your similarity with mimicry, my acceptability amongst other things, I will accord you the satiety of integrity. But any pugnacity will be treated with utmost severity or sagacity. I need propriety. In view of any adversity though, I will not condone any pusillanimity, else, I’ll treat you with alarming acidity, anonymity, ferocity and animosity.
It’s under probability though, just a possibility that your priority will be below till infinity because of your cerebral porosity, but your perversity in this principality or municipality must be history, because, in this cavity, I’m the ALMIGHTY.

My City

I know this City. It is our City.
I know its alleys of anguish and its putrescence
Every passing day, the future gets a little more blacker
Our lives will be ended by cannibalistic acts
Carried out by one of us

Every passing night, one of us will die
Murdered by a friendly foe
The deaths will only stop
The day we all are dead
This is my City. I know this City

The City is afraid of me. I feel it
I feel their eyes on my neck, stinging me
They watch me with apprehension
I can taste their bile, their putrid sweat
I know this City. It is their City

Tonight, one of them will die
Retribution has come to stay
If Revenge is a dish best served cold
Put on your Sunday finest
Its time to feast

On every pinnacle, on every spire
Tales of malignity will be heard in every Shire
This is my City. I hate this City


Dance with me round my higgledy pot
Crookedly, miggedly, figgedly got
Rhyme with me to an eerie force
As I unroll my tablet of curse

A curse on leaf, sea and wind
May evil winds blow sails behind
Leaves may crumble, quiver and fall
But I will no better curs call

A curse on stone, rock and tree
To swap their natures… Oh, spidweldee
A living stone and a rocky tree
Will make me merry, kind and free

A curse on toads, a curse on frogs
Bats, dogs, dry wood and burning logs
Dance around my figgedly pot
The night is young, the fire is hot

A curse on owls, two more on snakes
Let my words defeat the brakes
A curse on sleep, one too on slumber
A curse on magicians and abracadabra

A curse on visitors, late at night
Cursed moon and star, withhold your light
Seventy times seven plus ninety seven
Dance until the night is even

Curses upon the sticks and the stones
Thrown at me to break my bones
May they land upon the head
Of the throwers and kill them instead

I could rhyme from now till june
Spewing curses from shore to dune
But dance ye round my higgledy pot
Crookedly, miggedly, figgedly got