There's a chill in the air,

or maybe it's in my skin.

A presence that lingers

like a snake gliding across my palms

There's a knock.

I wonder who it is.

But the door remains closed,

under lock and key.

You won't come in here I try to say,

but a voiceless gasps comes out.

Because the devil's at my door

and he won't leave without my soul.