• Hanging above the buildings are the dark clouds of Hell
    Slowly they press down on the earth, bringing in the death sensation
    The rest shy away and do what they can to avoid them.
    Not me though. I invite them into my abode.
    My sanctuary. My temple.
    I feed those demons, thrive off their energy.
    We work as a team, spreading the lifelessness.
    Burning anything but what demons aren’t.
    It’s not a job, it’s a lifestyle.
    But when will they leave?
    How deep have they tangled themselves?
    Are they stuck for good? Has Satan won?
    Have I…lost?
    As soon as the questioning begins the Devils minions begin their work.
    Working my mind and tying down any lose knots to their liking.
    I don’t care, I don’t mind, I find sick pleasure in the dominance.
    The excitement of knowing I don’t mind, the joy of not caring.
    But neither emotions are true, they are not Heavens joy.
    They are not my own, or earths.
    The worst kind of joy comes from the fiery dungeons.
    Think of an addiction, how bad the drugs are for you.
    But how good you feel.
    Flying high in the sky, without wondering if you’ll fall.
    Rising up higher and higher with each drag.
    In the end, the demons tell you the fall from the high is worth it.
    The short joy is worth the lifelong descending.
    We know better, I know better than to keep rising and falling.
    So why do I feed my addiction?
    Then a spark of light finally breaks through the clouds.
    After all this time of being alone on earth
    God has finally sent someone to save.
    To help ward off the demons
    To lure them just enough for me to get free from their grasp
    To break free from the chains and their sickly sweet webs
    But the demons have injected themselves too deep.
    After being “freed” it is discovered some were hiding
    And stayed behind to finish the job.
    One way or another those lost ones will take me
    It’s inevitable. Undeniable. Incurable.
    They taunt and laugh at our efforts
    Waiting in the wings for the right strike.
    For the perfect suffocation.
    They make their plans and live behind the façade
    They summon the real me only when I’m alone
    “Do you remember her?” They murmur, soft as a lover.
    “Don’t you miss her? Leave this lie, live through the real you.
    Embrace your personal demon.”
    Their whispers sound so sweet and enticing.
    Smooth and silky like the finest fabrics.
    But you pull me out.
    You grab me the shoulders and turn me away from them
    Then you begin your voice.
    “That’s not the real you. Don’t dance with the monster.”
    Convincing as it is, the demons fight back.
    They haven’t won. No one has won. It’s a close tie.
    Between you, me, and Hells angles.
    But it’s only a matter of time before someone wins.
    The darkness beckons me, closer it becomes.
    It lays me down and wraps me in its death wings
    The demon holds me closely whispering sweet nothings
    Without my realization he’s killing me.
    He’s got a hold of me too tightly
    No one can hear my cries beyond the fog
    He grins demonically and laughs
    “Your loss will be my gain, love.” He sighs and holds me tighter.
    And slowly…painfully, he begins extracting my soul…