the feast of the beast

a demon listening to its poet
is a demon burning in holy water

the poet
she thought it was gone
crawling back through the gates of hell

remember, love
when sticky bloody walls melt down
w a

down your legs
feet warm and soaked
when the moon no longer smiles
gates are unlocked again
starving demons'
favourite dish is your pain

your demons never faded away
they are just good at hiding

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