And so it begins at the stroke of midnight
The red devil slips in your mind to freak
With his shiny red trident to match his leather tight
In his leather red boots he whispers with a squeak
Not like a mouse but like a wooden floor creak
And when you hear him, the fear will grip
Your heart into knots, your lungs can't breathe
When the devil visits, your mind just won't sleep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem