The Devil


Oh horror, the black pit that it is
And despair, such an ugly cloud
The deep, red blood runs so smooth and sweet
from the wounds of a prisoner unbowed

All the demons have taken control
and they soon imprison the mind
as deepest agonies so real and deep
Become hatred so rich and divine

And tears of the hunted
is the devil's drink
as he rules his awful land
Like milk and honey in his mouth
when he kills with death's own hand

The cries of his victims
as they feel true pain
when his punishment on them falls
And the devil chuckles with a hideous glee
at the plight of this pitiful mob

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