From hell they rise
In the clouds of smoke,
Their darkened eyes
Glance from above.
With every step
Comes inevitable Death.
Each one of them
Has his own crest.
They search the streets
At the dark of nights,
If You they find...
You're marked for Life.
Demons
© Copyright: Дитрих Фрэй, 2009
Свидетельство о публикации №109101601102
Свидетельство о публикации №109101601102
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