They are the ones who knock
Unsated they slither and mock
For they are hunters of your soul
Taken without your will or control
Did you get what you deserve
As their eyes stab at your reserve
Do you scream and run on
Wishing and hoping they'd be gone
To pursue and capture you
As you run and not falter too
While the gathering demon horde
Watch smile and quietly applaud.
© Paul Warren Poetry
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