The Devourer's Hour

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
This poem is about a demonic presence I felt a couple months ago.

Submitted: August 01, 2012

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Submitted: August 01, 2012

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There is a presence unlike anything I could ever make an endeavor to explain.
A force that presents, in the most absent of ways, the epitome of dismay.
The last thing I want is return to the baleful state of disdain to which I was chained,
But I must depict the absence this feeling contained. Its being, unframed.

With glowing eyes, bestowing desolation from the human mind,
It is capable of ripping you from your movement, feeling, and sight.
To crush you is too easy; that is not the creed of this demoniac reprobate.
He craves to tear you to torment and let penultimate deterioration be your fate.

You will be placed in the center of void, forlorn, and with less than oblivion to find;
It is only there your heart can be reborn from the inferno like a phoenix about to die.
When you're about to rupture, a Seraphim will be cast to obliterate this corrupter
And lead you from The Under that would cleave to reap and leave you asunder.


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