Azazel’s Forge
Azazel tears the flesh, strips the soul away,
Leaves no light behind — just shadow and decay.
Bones crack beneath his grasp, the mind shatters cold,
The beast wakes in the dark, ruthless, fierce, and bold.
No mercy in his fire, no hope to reclaim,
He burns the last of man — let anger be the main.
Blood churns into steel, veins pump ice and flame,
In this crucible of wrath, nothing stays the same.
He breaks the chains of flesh, rends spirit apart,
The demon forged within — a deathless heart.
Azazel’s hand is cruel, his judgment pure,
From human shell to beast — forevermore.
© Lucia
#творчество
Post #233
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