Τρίτη 8 Δεκεμβρίου 2020

The Prince of Darkness

 Oh whilst thou shit





He burbs like a swine
swears like a wench
he smells like perfume
his souls though, is pure stench

He likes to mumble words
he bathes in the sunlight
but when the sun goes down
a wolf become, oh so wild

His touch is soft and cold
his heart in charcoal entwined
his face is handsome, his look a ghost's
he stays awake all night

Oh Fathers, oh Mother of yore
bestow me the things i yearn the most for
all my tortures, nightmares and pain
if only, they were blessings in disguise

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