Wrapped by the devil
Hair caught
With high screams
Of wrath
At one’s life distraught
And taken
By false means
And forlornness.
Itself that weeps
And wilters into
Angst from hell.
Screeching sounds
Of pain
And hurt
As hair
Against fire
Burns.
This wretched sense
Of keep it down
And devour
The spirit
Of a lonesome cloud.
Lift not thy head
Nor speak thy tongue
For you I take
As my own.
To lick acid upon
Your wounds
And hear you weep
To the moon’s tunes
Of limitless light
And howling dogs
The ground
You will walk
In a slow plod.
Your spirit
Will be mine
And your heavenly thoughts
A mere sod.
Cast thy head
My way
And you will
Surely see
The end of day.
For I am the devil
And you beyond
I take your wings
As my song.