She’s breathing hells fire In a lonely pit she sits. Shivering , yet she’s burning from the inside .
You can nearly see the luminescence of the fire in her veins. you could say she looks radiant.
She snivels as the blood covered pen writes on its own. Nothing is written but the words she thought on her own None the less In an immoral tone An iniquitous one could write.
Her truths are withholding a demon A demon that knows all and is yearning for a fight A specimen all should avoid A demon that made her write with ink of her own blood. And make her think it’s right.
Can she escape and write a utopian universe? Where an angel can take her hand and write a gods word. A note so poetic it’ll put out that fire with a glowing mist of the heavens And she can place it in the core of her malevolent thoughts
She tried. She tried her most but the fire grew stronger as she got closer to the mist. Nearly killed her.. She now knows the demon is inside her soul. That’s why she writes, Death.