In the beginning,
Was a child born of love and hate
A product of manipulation, tears and scars,
For if there be any devil, will be his father
For non could match his taste,
for blood.
If there be any angel, would be his mother
Whose heart was locked in fates prison bars.

He said on the night of violence
'Oh angel,  forsake me not, do not leave me or this child, our lives would have no sense'

But to the good, comes wisdom at a crucial time,

To the good also comes naivete, and hopes that soon, all would be fine.
She would sing, she would weep, if only she knew what grim awaited her ahead.

Leave! The other angels said, or soon the god's would grieve, but she was struck by an addiction which came only from the devil's whip.

Behold the faithful night, with overwhelming darkness, she stood by the balcony, contemplating her sadness staring down a three storied wall

Lo, a strong wind with a stench so dizzying, she looked back and saw the grim had come to reap.

She leapt forward and down she came with a fall, finally the end of her sorrows and the begining of her sleep.

For the demons rejoiced, another soul gone, but the god's have a wicked humor laughing as they  poised, forgetting not the child.