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.
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