The devils poetry/By:Haunted Lunacy

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To be a devil at the end of every pointing finger.
To kneel in silence and be all alone.
Words whispered in judgment
On the breath of every stranger.
A wrath I must face, for my sins I must atone.

What sin have I committed,
But the sin of being me.
Created for destruction
By a God I cannot see.
I must give an answer for every word I said.
Condemned for my thoughts,
The devil's poetry in my head.

cut my wrist cause I'm so blessed

Hold the blade I made a mess

Bind my hands and close my eyes

The devil whispers as I die



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