The Demovil Poem by Caco Coli

Year 1888, London, England

He is demovil
He knows nothing about human. But he can do anything.
All his desant is human soul. Pure blood.

All I need to revenge.
They affrontuse me, devilish smile, wracky smile.
I need his power to kill, red spot splaearding, bone broack, burning their dead bodies until leftless.

I can not forgive those ordures.
Ordures, those litrealterialic rats, their lives have no valve.
We should have our knife on his throat.

Fire, fire burning bright.
In the middle of the night.

Endless Stare. White coth hanging. Sentioment of blood.
He who scared. Started off screaming, loudly, run, until he gumlpped into the resea.
Fire burning. Lighting up his body. Heat him like slapjacks.
His body is pure black.
Like his bloody snack.
And his soul.