My eyes are fitted
With demons
Crawling creepily around
Trying to grab my body
And crawl up
To reach my brain.
To soak inside
And construct a palace
Of their own
A corridor to stroll
With generations
Playing football
And basketball.

My mind's developing
A hostile palace
For  generations of demons
To reside and play
And grow and destroy.
My mind's a home
To the creepy generation
As if they are not the branches
But the roots
Of my intellectual capacity.