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The Devils Prey
The swooshing sound of the wind
Hollow and heavy it rings out
The rough and desolate call of the wild
The divination, dark spirit, and the demonic
Circling the pure, sphere heading the righteous
Oblivious of the dark spirits that echo
Deep, fathomless, and profound
They murmur malevolent intentions in your soul
Being the target was not a coincidence or by chance
I was always your prey
Copyright ©
Sherry Beck
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