He lived a life so bright, so free,
With endless joy, with endless harmony.
A dream of bliss, a golden scene,
A life as perfect, as it’s been.

But came a devil, cunning and sly,
A tempting deal caught his eye.
With terms spoken, glorious allure,
He signed away, a heart impure.
A parasite was born that day,
Hidden deep, it made its stay.

At first, the deal seemed grand—
No worries bound by life's demands.
He laughed, he lived, unburdened, wild,
No truths defiled, no haunted fear—
No… the cat’s here, and the bag’s there
The parasite emerged, so clearly.

The friends he cherished, walked away,
The bond was broken, cold as clay.
He called, he cried, sought hearts to mend,
But none could bear what he’d defend.
For every plea, they turned, ignored—
The parasite they all abhorred.

He tries it all, to break away,
To cure the curse, to **** the stay.
He runs, he hides, for the devil’s near,
But still, the devil’s laugh he hears.
“For what a fool, you truly are,
For fleeting joy, went so far—
Your life now, a pure despair,
The parasite, now’s your attire.”

Even as he dies, even as he rots,
The parasite bellows off him a lot,
As it reminds the world of what he is,
And the world just spits on him,
The cost of joy paid recklessly.

Does it all make sense yet?
Does this life have any feeling?
Is our soul in the right hearts?
Will we finally find harmony?

Once a upon a time we were all alive
Passed the golden gates as orchestras
synthesized a symphony
No one ever heard of hate or blasphemy
Peace was found along side of freedom
and we could peacefully breathe freely

Now twice a upon a reality death was rudimentary
The faucet leaking took a soul while all our hearts were sinking
Blood clogged so bad it sent vibrations worth 8 years of seizures
The lineage broken breaks down a soulmate into insanity
The silence of fear hoping to find its harmony

The devil wore black framed glasses
and had a New England accent when he was drunk.
The things the devil could do with his tongue,
the beautiful promises he'd whisper late at night…

The devil loved like a hurricane.
My roots were sturdy, never bending in his storm.
When the devil made love it was consumption.
I'd never been so seen, so adored.

Beneath his steel exterior the devil was soft
and a little broken.
But he could heal my wounds
with the promise
of a gentle hand.

I've never been a believer,
but for a time I worshiped at his altar.
Our Garden of Eden looked like cracked cement and Midwestern grey skies.
The trees bore no fruit,
but we made our own sweetness.

Eventually though,
the cost became too much
for us to remain that high.

I dug my fingers into wounds from his clipped wings.
Echoed his worst fears back to him.
His hurricane turned into an earthquake
and shattered the ground at my feet.

We spiraled into darkness.
Able to feel each other
but afraid to ever be too close again.

He who cannot make the hell beautiful
but he can route the roads beautiful ASF to the hell - Devil

If the devil saw you,
he'd kiss your eyes
and might turn back to the Lord,
for in you, his creation is nothing but beautiful.
Even the angels are at a loss.
Those gleaming eyes,
and soft lips calling my name—
how could I forget such a thing?
I am just a man,
not a being who can resist the urge
to keep you close.