Here's a message, from the Devil himself. He has a poetic side, hidden on the top shelf. But don't be fooled by his lying lips. He'll find all you untreated wounds, and make them all rip. His words got you wrapped around his dirty little finger. It's a trap, you better not linger. So, I'm done with what I call "prep talk". But before I go, don't forget, the Devil doesn't keep his mouth locked.
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Dear... whoever may come across such a note, Oh I'm not gonna make your boat float, but I'm not going to make it sink either. I'm the one, on the heavier side of the lever. Filled with riches and power. Oh, I'm no flower. Might as well call me a weed. I feed on your fear and your hopelessness, your anger and your selfishness. I am the one to cause you your sadness. I am the one causing madness and mayhem. I AM THE ONE YOU SHOULD FEAR! While your wounds heal, I sneak into the scar, to remind you, I still haven't taken it that far. Call me a monster. Call me whatever you want. Just remember, I will haunt. I'm not here to taunt. Remember the day you all wore poppies? Do I have say much more? Oh, that's just the beginning. My back isn't even sore.
Yours Truly,
The Devil Himself.
