Not my best work:
As the demon walks out into the streets,
Life begins to cease,
Under its watchful eye,
Hearts lose their beat,
No soul it posses,
No feeling of love or peace,
For it’s a fallen angel,
Stuck in this never ending cycle,
Damned to walk alone,
In a life cursed with disgrace.
Walk the quiet streets,
Step into the darkness,
Feel your soul disapear,
As your heart turns to ash,
No longer shall blood run through these veins,
Silence shall forever be
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