Card Game with The Devil

 Card Game with the Devil 

Fiery molten floors knee deep in heat inflamed, 

Unholy ghosts with pain forever and a day, eternally burning within the coals. 

Knocking at the devil’s door, it opens for our sinning souls. 

Let’s us stay and linger here eternally in a raging cannonade. 

If I’m to stay at his arm, upon my essence he’ll evoke his tortured charm, 

It Chews my heart and liver with a ravenous storming violent flood. 

It breaks my bones and sips my blood. 

Flaming my traitorous deeds of evil and despiteful begotten harm to sin. 

With the devil good cant win 

I’ll sit and play the game he plays with might 

To fall in darkness, a king but empty, yet some small hope yet still remains. 

A prisoner, hands and feet forever locked in tight coal-black and rusted chains. 

The sceptics who slowly upon the earth blind, are those who now believe, 

Believe in bloody streams and nightmarish dreams to here forever stay. 

The seductive art of Hell on this wide earth is wrought, 

Forgotten still from time to time. that seekers did not seek. nor sought. 

Death and rot and burning skin that melts and dies and rots. 

The perfect place that preys on weaker men, now and then, of every time. 

And smells like burning winds that tastes like fiery smoke and flames that spread their lies from mouths  

without all hope of any peaceful thought or any soul revoked. 

I’ll play one hand, oh won’t it be grand, 

I’ll shark the devil on his throne, I’ll wrestle back my broken bones. 

And soar above the scarred red sky, above where I sank from when i died. 

To say my peace unto the God, that gave me want to lead myself astray. 

That brought me to this darkness and this unholy eternal rot of day. 

Or if the demon dark and red, full of blood and lust of dead, 

If he lets me go for a moment more, upon the gates of heaven I'll implore. 

If he holds me deep within, his realm of hate and land of sin. 

To suffer more than words can write, he’ll promise this with sheer delight. 

And finally, when he’s had his due, he will rest and take it up anew. 

For in tormentil hell and fire of death, the devil drags your every breath. 

Alas, he wants what you once had, a life of mortal good or bad. 

The will to fly or slither forth, in skies or on the grounds lying corps. 

The snake, the spider, the rat all see, the devil's intent and true reprieve. 

With no remorse, he will drink you down, until your soul won't be found, ever in existence known. 

In this realm or any other home, you have ever sown. 

You will simply ceace and turn to black as non existence takes you back. 

Before the spark that let you live if given with a simple gift 

The devil will hoard the will that you bestowed as you walked through  

And crush the very thought of everything that's true.