Now they drive in with thier flashing lights,
all in uniform on this darkest of nights.
To late to stop it, it's already begun,
To late to do what should have been done.
Deep in the castle sits the scared little boy,
wishing he could cling onto his favourite toy.
He cuts his breath and holds his wrist,
screams out loud and makes a wish.
The demon is coming, here to stay,
with the innocent mind he'll wish to play.
But boots are banging up the rickety stairs,
the saviors are coming running in pairs.
Will they make it in time? to save the boy?
before he is twisted into satan's toy?
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