Along the duly noted lane of pain
A terror-seeking demon lurks in wait
For those who would with all good fortune slain
Revert to what they were on their birth date
He trips their souls with slender legs of silk
And sends them into swamps of brain-dead juice
Amidst a drowning murk of broken dreams
To melt their minds into a gooey mess
And render souls asunder at the seams
Devouring all the pieces that remain
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