Continued....

Ones lips; Ones hands; The devil incarnate The words; The smile; The devils work So why does one suddenly find themselves craving those stained lips That utter words of deceit? Those hands and their magic, Ones Will they seem to wield No protests will they accept Cause manipulation is their trained field And though the momories still remain So shall they too fade. Gradually Seeing the dawns as they pass Experiencing new pleasures.. But never forgetting THE ONE WHO MADE IT PERFECT