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The Diablo sat there one day amongst his inner innocence and decided that he no longer wanted his heart broken.
The Diablo cried and cried until he couldn't no more as it started to **** him on the inside.
The Diablo said to himself that he's going to block out all emotions and love for others and cause a reckless destruction while his heart of fire turned to cold dead stone.
His fingernails grew long and black after rotting under his temptresses phony heart.
The Diablo cried out loud but no one could hear him so he started to stomp his feet on the ground and grow his white angel wings into a sharp velvet black.
The Diablo had enough, he was tired of love, tired of being treated like a *******.
Diabo finally gave up and without a care did as he wanted to keep himself happy.
The Diablo is always filled with fire, but this time he ignited on the outside to show his burning sensation from within and he slowly withered away into a corpse shell to hide into his darkness with the phantoms in the trees.
Jack L Martin Aug 2018
What do you know of war?  
First person shooter
Simulated gun fire
computerized blood splatter

What do you know of war?
Tag team alliance
Kids slaying kids
for virtual dollars

What do i know of war?
I saw the carnage
Devastation, the horrors
The smell of death

What do i know of war?
The pain haunts me
every day
every hour
It NEVER goes away!

War ain't no game, bro!
These words need no explanation.
PaperclipPoems Sep 2016
I had a dream of you
But somehow it was mixed with reality
You hated me because you loved me still
And yet you found someone to replace me

I was envious of her, jealous that you chose her
Even though I had someone else too
She was the woman, married to Hector
Whose sister you slept with when I loved you

We exchanged our daughter in a parking lot
You made no effort to hide her
Foreign emotions overwhelmed me
Settled resentment returned

Her name I always remember from high school
She is Blanca, still technically Mrs. Blanca Garcia
Somehow you both resemble the devil
To remind me of your affair with Hector's sister, Ophelia

¬°Diablo vete!
You're a past memory, long forgotten
You come in the night, inconspicuously
Finding any light left to darken.
uzzi obinna Aug 2016
I am an angel in disguise,
The reason for the vice,
I am the fear at the hallway,
I am the accidents at midday,
I am the terror in kids dreams,
I am the reason why they scream,
I am the uncertainty in your choices,
I am the million lying voices,
I am the woes of the people,
I am the persistent evil,
I am the hate in your heart,
I am the one who tears apart,
I am the lust in your mind,
I am the fortune you cant find,
I am the angel of the night,
I am the serpent that must bite,
I am the hypocricy in your actions,
I am the encourager of mixed reactions,
I am the one who takes your peace,
I am the one who gives you disease,
I am the blood sacrifice,
I am your lover's sudden demise,
I am the enemy of the the saint,
I am the reason why you faint,
I am your slumber and your sleep,
I am the reason why nations weep,
I am the killer of your friends,
I am the reason why the zealous bends,
I am the giver of deadly missions,
I am your refusal to righteous submissions,
I am the ****** in the cities,
I am the unsolved conspiracies,
I am the injustice your government,
I am their wicked covenant,
I am the father of liars,
I am your reckless desires,
I am but not the I AM,
i am here to cause you harm.
But i shall not succeed,
Because my end is guarantteed.
Refuse me therefore,
And be free evermore.
Creepstar Feb 2016
The best thing about juggling
Is hanging with my friends
On the days I'm struggling
They're there to make amends

We spend our time in laughter
Learning tricks with different tools
Sit and chill much after
To others we look like fools

But we don't care,we are us
And that's how its supposed to be
The smallest victory worth a fuss
We are wild and we're free
William Petrey Dec 2015
Your demise shall start as the skies turn red

And ignite the spark in the living dead

The wolves shall bay, and the sun will burn

At evil's rise, the son will turn

As the willows shake, and the pines blow wild

The man shall take a helpless child

The red will fade, and turn to black

As the child walks behind his back

So the story goes, there is a man inflamed

Who shall have his son to make his claim

And try you will to evade his eyes

But the story ends with your demise
Why would a Venus fly trap be sour when it could be sweet?
Why would Diablo have horns when he could have ****?
The devil wears prada. He is beautiful.
Jennifer Weiss Sep 2014
Depths of self death
Never loved self
self loved someone else first
now self be depressed.
nobody gonna love you
until you do.

— The End —