Demons . . .

The devil calls out to me
Screeching it's message across my brain, my eyes
I'm sotempted to go back to what i used to be
But something's stopping me...
It's not what they want
They want us to change
To grow and mature into the fiery demons we are meant to be
We toss and turn in our beds in the day
Having nightmares of terror and lust
Dusk comes slowly and we awaken
We light our candles on our candelabras
And run into the moonlight
So that the others can see who we really are

Slowly the others come out to marvel in our likeness
They see themselves in us
Realizing that we are all the same
As if they're looking into mirrors
They see their faces light up as ours
What were we so afraid of they ask themselves