The first lines I wrought, was a joke and a hoax. A child with a pen, imagination ran thin. This is why my first poem, was just a joke from within.

a riddle came to mind and a battle raged inside. For it fought and persisted whether to be riddle or rhyme.

Riddle of the demon ment to trick those who hide. Rhyme of the angels  To comfort the kind. Hellfire scorches all light from the sky. Angels become violent for the sake mankind.