The moment his eyes shut, the deal was done.

He slowly dreamed, as the devil won.

The life of this child was no longer fun,

As the demon approached, in the rising sun.

The young boy dreamt, no idea what he’d done.

The world was now in control of the one.

So fierce, so powerful, and afraid of none.

He owned the boy, like a bullet in a gun,

To do the things no good man would have done.

The thoughts of his childhood had already begun,

And the memories brought back, like a guilty pun.

He thought of losing control, like Attila the ***,

As he remembered those days, remembered by none.

He felt the whip, of the rising sun.

Urging him on as he wandered by some.

He could no longer feel the pain of none,

He only felt the burning stun.

He was being controlled, he was being won,

By the devil inside him is keeping him alive,

For without that live he would not survive.