The fire licked at his heels, the devil’s putrid flesh, it peels, back beyond its humanity, the demented killer within me. A shield of blood, a mask of mud, decaying flesh, deceit at his behest. I dance within the dying days, lost within its demented gaze. I’d cry if I knew where to begin, the weeping song, the song I sing. A wish, a way, a might, a may—tonight the devil burns so bright that hell opens up to show its delight. The deceiver, the believer, the endurer, and the redeemer. I am all, yet I am none; I am destiny, I have won.