All Manner of Things
Asmodeus; Lilith
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With the Horsemen come a manner of beasts,
Wicked, vile, terrible things;
Well versed in bringing pain and sorrow
To princes and poppers; whores and kings.
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First come the swine, boars to behold.
Swift winged beasts; tusked and hoofed.
They smell of bacon and wondrous feasts.
Luring those that they’ll engulf.
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Next crawl Shades; viscous yet shadow,
Risen excrement from Sodom’s field.
Cunning and ruthless, a mimic of men,
Subversive, with false hope they wield.
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Lashing beast lurk into they fray.
Lilith’s sons, the Incubi.
Mindless drones; impulse driven
To sting; to breed and multiply.
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Lilith’s daughters seek fresh souls,
To fuel diminished concubines.
With a pearl eye; a slanted smile,
Sexual and deadly by design.
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Finally, the Lord and Lady themselves,
Asmodeus and Lilith exit the flame.
Their eyes gleam with lust; desire.
This city, a new kingdom to claim.
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“Look, my lovely, upon this buffet of souls
Ready in wait for us to gorge.”
“Yes, my sweet, their suffering so pungent.
Come we feast, and then we forge.”
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Asmodeus snatched a man of ill intent.
So quick, no chance to fill with fright.
Visceral, primal, carnal.
They twist and snarl; snap and bite.
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