Demon’s Dilemma
Every night’s a negotiation with something ancient and hungry,
Possession isn’t spinning heads–it’s the thousand small decisions that go wrong,
Sins counted, temptations indulged, the devil’s arithmetic in every cracked mirror,
There’s a thrill in the madness, a satisfaction in the suffering,
The rituals don’t work, the priests get tired,
The real demon is the voice in your own head, always hungry for more.
Friends tell stories about you at bars, but the truth is worse–
You’re the ghost in your own life, haunting yourself,
Chasing exorcisms that only empty your wallet and fill your nights with new horrors,
Every window reflects your worst self, every prayer is just noise,
Yet sometimes, you wonder if it’s better to dance with devils than sit in silence,
To play with fire because at least it’s warm, at least it feels like living.
Maybe someday a light will break through the cracks,
Or maybe hell is just the world outside, and you’re safer inside your own darkness,
Either way, you keep the dance going,
Never sure if you want to be saved or just left to burn.