Devils gift

well the devil caught me in his binding lyrical trap, he began to sing while the demons all started to clap.

This must be a nightmare I stated with fearful tone, he said no my son your soul is payment for the talent you possess and it was written on your developing bone.

Set free from the burning chains I chose to honor the deal and continue the artistic fight, spreading my gift with the world and absorbing this poison each time I write.

So when my creative mind eventually withers away into the void of gray, know that I stood up for the art until my dying day.