Blunt Force

Demons come out,

when death is about.

No reason for fear,

if real is near.

Your Court date is set,

in depth of your net.

How much do you charge?

To lie while at large.

It's not what you say,

for that will give way,

to spirits of treason,

that feel the season.

Be scarce if the terror,

reaches down to touch where.

The bog is not well,

and the fen will be; Tell.

Contracts of thoughts,

noise of the bought.

Cost me to much,

in gold, it's abrupt.

Sold while I slave,

sleep while I wave.

Tired I save,

loosing what I made.

Told from my zero,

you will not be a hero.

Satan's Spawn is your mire,

you will be my retire.

My soul she did buy,

with the blood of the guy,

that signed for my life.

In contracts of strife.

My eyes do not close,

as I can repose.

The verse of the nurse,

as the demons rehearse.

A play or a roll,

will not make you whole.

For the truth of soul,

is the Blunt Force of Old.

Karen A. Placek