Emotions:

He watched the mushrooms slowly growing,

All those colours, and of glorious hue,

The deadly crop rockets were sowing,

Extirpating all in view.

The species had not chosen to die,

But according to data on the imaged screens

They most surely would, by and by,

And in technicoloured, apocalyptic scenes.

He pondered on, and thus deep in thought,

Almost missed the craft, high above the fray,

The very one, that which he sought,

Its occupants hoping to live another day.

Here he’d find the fool who started it all,

His vaunting ego and sycophantic peers,

All complicit in this decline and fall,

Reinforcing greed’s credo down the years.

He felt his rage rise, as it should not do,

As he considered this disgusting clown,

And the more he suppressed it, the more it grew,

As he thought of all he was pulling down.

So he imaged his sword, mighty and long,

Which reached out to mete harsh punishment,

And in seconds both clown and plane were gone,

Their atoms scattered o’er the firmament.

Then he imaged a clock and, with consummate skill,

Wound back the hands, reversing the scene,

And when satisfied, had local time stand still,

Whilst he dealt with this creature and its egoistic dream.

It lay in its bed, a smug look upon its face,

As he imaged a clamp, and with the greatest finesse,

Slowed down its heart to an untenable pace,

So it died in its sleep, and no one would guess.

He withdrew and imaged the original contract,

Which he’d signed when he took the lease on the place,

And once more felt a fool to be thus trapped,

And yet again had to fight to accept it with grace.

Though the emotions he mined here were sturdy indeed,

And his customers bought them without any quarrel,

He realised his judgement had been influenced by greed,

And he’d ne’er considered this amount of the hassle.

Emotion mining is complex, and a tricky game,

But the rewards could be high, and he found them so,

And over the eons he had made somewhat of a name,

And had many famous clients (though confidential) in tow.

To be fair, these creatures blazed with emotion,

There was killing and loving, murders and great wars,

But they had to be nurtured with such huge devotion,

That the whole bloody place was now a bit of a chore.

He considered then on the other, not far from this place,

Where the creatures were wild in their feelings and thought,

And imaged his way there, through both time and space,

And sought out the intervention he’d so recently wrought.

There in a rough stable a new-born baby lay,

With wise men and shepherds cooing over the child,

And he sighed with relief, knowing that someday,

A new religion would send the population wild.

It was best, he considered, to go for tried and tested ways,

Though the yield might not be high it gave a solid result,

And on this planet with a big moon he’d wait out the days,

Until they were all killing each other for some religious cult.

And he’d mine their emotions, their burning desires,

Their hatred, their love, their every high and every low,

And he’d nudge a little when needed to stoke up the fires,

And no longer take the risks of betting on one throw.

Nobody understood the trials and tribulations

Of an entrepreneurial Fallen Angel on the go. 

He was not evil, indeed kind to both friends and relations,

All he needed was these enterprises to pull in some dough!