Demon; Devour
Come, ye that are nothing more than fragmented memories desperate to mend yourself whole again
Allow my entry upon your most chambered of rooms tethered deeply within your mind
For I shall devour those remnants of misery and rancor; unbeknownst to the you who will allow me such rapturous pleasure
Fret not, fear not, for a memory does not make a man nor a woman nor a person Nay- a memory is but a rotted fruit born from those errs which haunt thy mind Thus, what better answer to this riddling corruption of your thoughts than to nourish me Every. Last. Drop.
Bidding you farewell, blissfully empty- starting anew
Fresh for pain, renewed Purified- all to tread the muddied path once more- never to notice your own fading footprints ahead nor this salivating gaze following you along the way













