Room of six nights

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NIGHT 1: Got a new place

Just to house my troubled soul for six days

The rooms were cold like the touches of death,

The air reeks of taunted pathetic lurking demons with no body to trouble at the heart of darkness

NIGHT 2: the bed was 6 foot, 7 maybe

Comfortable as an eternal bed for a rotting body of mine

The chilliness of the room increases each troubled night

In pitch darkness, I see a figure. I just cannot tell what it is, maybe it wants me or hiding away from me.

NIGHT 3: bed sheets cannot burry me enough from cold

Not even my lost lover can shield me with my demons of lust and a heat that comes out of her body

I saw it again. Not in the corner, but next to my bed. I could feel the warmth like a breath of fire. I wanted it next to me, just for that moment

NIGHT 4: the bed was my grave, the sheet my coffin. All I was waiting for was my judgement

I was demoniac, maybe what I see are my past sins turned human to just haunt me

I drag myself out of the bed as my bones rattle with a coldness, just to pray to God to redeem me from my fears

Fears of what no man should know

I last saw it enter under my bed.

NIGHT 5: All I think of is dying young. How demons in hell would fuck me cold; Fears grow senile, I am a dead man walking

The vile winged creature with a ripped pale smooth warm skin daunted with blood is in my bed. On top of me

The eyes coated with lust and death, No need for a coffin or a grave,

No mourners for me, the white sheets will help cover my nakedness

I don’t fear what the demon/angel is made of, but I see me it.

The way it looked at me, like we were coveted by the blessing and under a curse to deem vows of pleasure

Heart fritz whilst my body cold. Sweetly it whispers angelically

FUCK ME

NIGHT 6: tamed by own sins. They will always get to me,

The reminiscence of the past night tingles provocatively.

I don’t know what am I love with. Wait! I cannot discern desire, lust, or love.

To me I take love, because I don’t know her yet

All I wait in this cold room of death filled with aural of the past passion, is for my lover of darkness

Fuck! She’s in my head.

Corrupting every memory no man should forget, she’s a worm in my brains

Every single moment I forget what am still doing in this room of coldness

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