My soul is in your hands,
I bestow it to you, my love.
There was a time I cared about the world.
Clasped in your arms of the monstrosity,
I sense the home I was missing.
In your serenity beloved,
I fell for the patron of a demonic world.
The way you handled all my sufferings,
without even touching my injuries.
I feel vacant as it’s hard to love a Satan,
Unwillingly desirable, completely shaken.
If devil love is bibulous, I don’t want a benefactor.
And even if he’s pretending,
I would prefer this over any blissful world.