Innocent though he may be,


I am the angel of dark death

I’ll take him from his resting place,

drinking his last breath



A child of such a tender age,

will grow here in our ways

We’ll torment in the strictest sense,

blackening his days



When he is a young disciple,

he’ll be nefarious in name

Evil he will spread on earth,

for torture is his game



Corrupting others in his league,

and rising to his lead

He’ll teach the youngsters heinous thoughts,

hate is what they’ll bleed



At the age of his consent,

we’ll bow and call him lord

The master of the underworld,

will be his just reward



So fear not little child,

as you walk hand in hand with death

As I steal your vital air,

you’ll breathe the devils breath
I would want to live longer...