Almost Certain

 

 

Dark clouds wallpaper

Must I be surround by the fools of an unworthy world?

winds of the tempest state crushing to demean faith

Among the weeds that twist and turn I see the demon king. 

In every face that I will ever grudgingly meet he lashes

God exists. Man resists. 

One soul unhappy in the mire of their excreted words

Like poison none other.

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