Behind the dark closet

Between dusk and dawn
Around all unnatural events
Lies the Griffin’s crib
Demons stroll-in with dignity
Boogies exhibit life’s reality
Danger looms at every creep
And the Satan dine with crisps
A step by step transformation
In and out of the growing community
An evil lurks in the shadows
Shimmering with looks of calamities
Horror, around with maximum terror
Fangs; long and sharp with perfection
Molock! In human flesh
Terrible is it sight.
Horns, twisted at the beginning;
Sharp and straight at the end
With the legs of a Bison,
It gallops into the light.
Griffin’s crib, a city upon incarnations
Priests die from new ferocious demons
Mauling the lights out of all souls
From the shadow, they come for you.
Naughty or nice, it matters not
Good or bad, it’s all to naught
The whip of terror will lash on
On all without remorse.
Little by little, they creep into your souls
From camping in your bodies
To taking over your hearts
Then, they take away your light.
Cry all you can,
Weep till blood drips from your eyes
These ones are beautifully cruel
Sucking out your soul with purpose.
Death is the real deal
Creek after creek, its ordeal
Sending chills of fright down your spines
A cremating moment of hope.
by Tokede Daniel

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