Diablo is back.

"I will devour your being," he says to me, taunting.
It's so easy for him now. Now that night is falling.
Eternity with me a vow he gives me as he's grinning.

And again I wonder how to stop myself from falling
Back into the pits of hell wherein before you I was living
Because it's not exactly what most would have you believing.

It's not as they say "seas of molten copper and fire"
Oftentimes it's a mere lack of reason or desire
To keep going and instead a nagging feeling to expire
As if clothed with a massive dense leaden attire
As if Yahweh himself has yielded to tire.

But the facade often lies to show nothing is dire.