Behind shadows and sly smiles with cherry-red lips, it hides.
Dark, with a hellfire spit, like acid for blood.
Dancing around with the devil’s tongue.
Blood-thirsty blackness, fifty fathoms down.
Trapped souls, food for an eternity.
The gravy appearing like tar upon the surface, in the moon’s light.
What lies beneath,
hell for the damned.
A village of torture, the devil’s playground.
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