I slow dance,
with the devil,
no signs of romance,
just a lil rebel,
i enhance,
my danger stance,
the piano,
and its high notes,
low notes,
emotion floats,
like a storm hitting a boat,
tempo building adrenaline,
rush is filling him,
with evil thoughts,
he taunts,
but he knows its killing him,
the tone of death,
last words from his last breath,
the perfectly unperfected,
the instrument of death,
the instrument is the depth,
it grapples my throat,
pupil shrinks,
the light is near,
heart full of fear,
when things seem weary,
they begin to seem clear,
crystal clear but its late,
fate draws in,
claws sink into my skin,
my bed is 6 inch pins,
no kin,
no fam to grab my body and keep me safe,
from the vultures that eat me away,
the pain i inflict,
in this ill conflict,
a one on one with the devil,
is as sick as it gets.

Intoxication, my voicebox rocks the nation
Sweet affiliation, the Doe Or Die situation - Az