Mark of the beast There is no treats getting tricked by the beast. Hidden lurking creeping beneath. Waiting patiently, deep in the dead of the night sneak Like a thief in the shadows. Suppressing breaking the spines and hearts for good men .Yearning for peace The devil wears a halo. Disgusting trench foot custard bottom . Rotten feet reek of havoc And sorrow and grief . No earthly hope in tomorrow in the nature of the beast. Cool calm collective give to take,never giving nothing. Tables turning,souls burning no rest or relief. Just a constant yearning for death.