The demon of disorder
As tho it was called
Riding on the tears of it's begger

It causes havoc to the home of it's prey
As it comes to seek dues of it's pay
From the soul that were called
By the whisper of it's sound

It comes as a silent sound
Only to be seen by it's welcoming prey
Taking both the great and minor
Which just a blow of it's power

It kills the rich
And mocks the poor
Cursing the day from the night
Making men sing lustful songs

If death were to be bought with money
The rich could have been spared
Oh stealer of joy
Touch not my beloved

© ink_legend🌹🌹🌹