Quenching the thirst of a devil,
Requires deeds done by an evil;
In the cold and misty moonlight,
With gratifying smite.
When the two souls collide,
And no laws they abide;
Just the two of them drenched,
In each others' messed Tophet;
When the time knows no bounds,
Their moans are the only sound;
Craving for more and more,
Even with a mind full of despair.

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