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| The Saint that saved a witch |
| Hatred, blood run cold, Haunting words that chill my soul, Endless power at my fingertips, losing faith and losing grip. Blood so warm now streams my face, Darkand Horrific in this Hellish place. The tender strike of evils kiss, to steal awwway any chance of bliss My passion and hope grow less and less, all the thoughts of sin carress, the ideas are not compromised, and you see the terror in their eyes. Everything I recieved from above, Receives erjection due to lack of love, People ask why I do not care, But misery like this is too much to bear. So at this time I'm possessed, Now at the 12 o clock hour I rest. Trapped and confined in a prison cell. Lost and damned in my own cell. Friendship and love I sacraficed and missed it. Lust's minons and demons are the only ones who visit. Until a single saint walks in one day. And over my disgraceful body begins to pray. He breaks my ties to the Wican Rede to release my heart, for my soul to be freed. The saint gives me a pieve of advice "To be true to god there will be a 25 price" "I know you speak of my tarot, but let me keep them," I plead. But near my heart lingers the demon, greed. So I steadily hand him the object of my temptation In hopes that the lord will bring happiness and elation. |