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There's Not Supposed To Be A Title

Poetry By: magicfoot2011

A nightmare reborn

Submitted:Jul 27, 2012    Reads: 5    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

Claws black as hell,

reaching out toward the bell,

that rings to bring you to wake.

You want it to be fake,

but it's only just begun.

The demons have won.

Your soul is their playground,

as you make no sound,

the demons rage within,

and you can not win.

Claws black as hell,

turn you into a hollow shell.

Faceless bodies try,

to thrust you from the sky.

Your body is no longer yours,

as inside the demon tours.

There's nothing you can do,

ans the demons control you.

Claws black as night,

carry your sould away without fright.


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