The True Devil

He was so up, up, up.

He was so tough, tough, tough.

He was so rough, rough, rough.

He was wicked.

He's tickled pink.

Did I forget he is secretly a Wiccan?

Is he a friend, or a foe?

He's is a minister of Satan.

Did you know, know, know?

I've lost control of my disdain for him.

My lips are sealed.

My tongue is bitten.

The writing on the wall has already been written!

I open my mouth to speak!

I cast out the shadows that are following me! 

He was so up, up, up,

On top of the world he stood,

But little did I know,

A darker side he withstood.

Tough as nails, rough as sand,

His façade was impenetrable,

But deep within his soul,

Lurked something inexplicable.

Wicked thoughts, tickled pink,

A dangerous combination,

For in his heart, a secret dwelled,

A wiccan with no hesitation.

A friend or foe, I couldn't tell,

His presence sent chills down my spine,

For he was also a minister,

Of the devil's sly design.

Did I know, know, know,

Of his dark and twisted ways?

Or did I choose to turn a blind eye,

And live in this deceitful haze?

But now I've lost control,

Of my disdain and fearful thoughts,

For the writing on the walls,

Has been revealed, and can't be fought.

I open my mouth to speak,

To call out the shadows that follow me, 

But my lips were sealed, my tongue was bitten,

For feared of what may follow.

But I refuse to live in fear,

For I am stronger than his spell,

I cast out the darkness,

And break free from his twisted spell.

My soul is mine and not to sell.

I will open my mouth to speak -

And express myself,

So he does not cast shadows over me.