Demons are fear molded into a solid form
They are shape-shifters who glide recklessly without a hint of control
Demons of darkness, loss, pain, insanity, death, and inner deform
All the same, they suck on the hope and courage in ones soul

Demons made of fear, with jaws of a shark
Pulling on petrified hearts, with their unreal hands, up to ones throats
Waiting for a weakened soul, ready to embark
Letting alone no sanctuary, full of devote

Demons hunting their prey with claws of razor blades
Coiling their thin, ropy spirits around fragile sanity and mind
Playing their hearts to believe lies before the truth invades
Ones tears causing their fear stricken eyes to blind

Demons are creatures of day and night, strong and weak
The smell of humans fears, is of what they utterly reek

F. T. M