Pacts with Devils

Written in infernal and with blood, 

the pacts, the demons, the lies

But you don't win this battle.

The chains break. They're cracked. 

Your heart, ripped off an open chest, where nothing lived, the rot consuming way before your death. 

Offered sacrifices to break the pact with demons. Accepted and burned. 

There is a dance macabre celebrating this victory. A small one, a last one, the end of an era of battles. 

Narcissus drowned on the lies of salvation and hopes of better worlds. Oh how I love your dead seed, your murdered children and my hands covered in blood. Oh how close I was from the broken and the mad, how liberating to win the wings out of this inferno of bullshit and torture minds. The spirit grows, iluminating the whole ascend to a world in ruins, but alive, where you cannot reach, the walls built for the first time in the strongest stone, it will resist the strongest winds, fiery curls dancing on it. 

The last time I pronunced your name. Your first death. The knife and sand burying fast. The Nothing left behind. The Blessed Nothing.