THE FACE OF TERROR

The Devil wears the face of terror
Upon his malformed evil head,
A face only a monster possesses
Pocked, torn, and scarlet red.

Broken bones protruding
From his leathery cheeks,
Yellow pustules abounding
From which fetid ichor seeps.

The face of terror
Is in command of the night,
Until sanity at last returns
With the breaking of daylight.

The Devil comes out every night
To claim lost souls as his own,
In this place, evil prevalent
Only horror now is known.

All the goodness hides inside
Hoping soon the night will end,
Monsters haunt this foul place
Satan is their only friend.

Evil stalks this worthless place
On this loathsome stretch of ground,
Devils rule this aeon-cursed village
Gross abominations abound.

The Devil wears the face of terror
Upon his ancient weathered form,
He comes from down the netherworld
Where malignancy is the norm.

THE END
© Copyright 2022 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia