I feel the devil sitting on my shoulder,
Whom every man considers an ill omen.
I feel my house is burning in a fire,
And all I can do is write a poem.

I feel the devil's whisper in my ear,
Which tells me to do something bad.
I feel the darkness coming closer,
And I don’t even know how to be mad.

I feel the devil's spear pricking my neck,
Punishing me for all my sins.
I feel the tarots torn on the deck,
And all I can do is grin.

I feel his presence growing,
The hope in me has started to melt.
I feel my freedom ending,
And I can't even cry for help.