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"The Devils Work"

Once there was an angel that led morning song,
He'd shown himself unfaithful, His decisions led him wrong,
Cast he was from heaven, alone he fell from grace,
Forced into a new home to live with his mistakes,
His face fine cut, His hair,
Took the darkest shade of black,
He spoke in modern beauty,
T'was compassion that he lacked,
His eyes would draw you in, his clothing stained with sin,
His beauty something special, A true jewel among men,
Women stood in awe of him and yet disgusted at the thought,
Knowing if they had their way they'd be sent to hell to rot,
So with his musical background,
He had us do his work,
And he remains the puppeteer,
Wherever he may lurk.

-TS
Written by Poetrys-Not-Dead (Trent Sizemore)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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