The Harbinger

Little Devil

She exists in the heart of darkness and fury.

She the once who always acts in accordance of what is right,

Is now transmuted to a she who is the opposite of ethical.

At once she dwells in me—becoming my flesh.
Living with harmony: with my eyes cover and my hands chain up.

This frees my repression of worldly lies and flesh and blood.

The little devil, who is she in me, makes me the little devil in his wicked realm.

He the one who always chuckles for every blunder I commit.

Little pure has no space in the conscience of she,

And makes me more out of order and bringer of chaos.

I set the fire with my desire,

Not knowing that the fire out of my passion is eating my own self.

The little devil, who is she, is no longer a friend or a baby to pacify,

But a fiend to be feared and put to sleep forever.