A crackling fire casts eerie, dancing shadows
on the old devilwood in the witching hour.
The full moon rises high in the sky,
as the demigoddess, dressed in a blood red robe,
bows her head in obedience to her demigorgon masters.
She stands in silence encircled by a candle lined pentagram,
her mind descending into the fiery pits of oblivion,
as she falls under the demonic spell
of her master's' cruel desires.
Donavon Scott Vinson
