Demon

In the gloom of night’s thin veil,
A demon walks where shadows fray,
His eyes like coals of smouldering coal,
His breath a sigh of sulphur‑kissed gale.

He haunts the ruins of forgotten halls,
Whispers curl through cracked stone walls,
A chuckle low, a rustle dread,
Echoing where the timid tread.

Yet in his heart a flicker stays—
A spark of light the dark betrays,
For even fiends may yearn for grace,
To trade their flame for a softer face.

So hear his tale, not just his fright,
A creature caught between the night
And the faint, relentless dawn’s debut—
A demon’s soul, both black and true.