The Devils' Lament
A savage beast it is,
Crawling through the darkest realms
This heart is an abyss,
Disguised by rotting, barren elms
Tear through broken glass,
You've nothing to behold
Heart of silver, heart of brass,
Heart of hollow, idle gold
Joy is a tribulation,
Cast grimly to the weak
A fever bound sensation,
Which many witlessly seek
Come to the castle of sorrow,
And dance with devils through the night
Worry forever for tomorrow,
And with us, escape virtue's light
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mimiirox
I may not be a happy poet. I may not be a perfect poet. I may not be a poet who can move a million with a few short words. But make no mistake, for I am, and always will be, a poet.
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