The staged laughs and plastic smiles,
The scripted questions and silent guile.
With glazed eyes, they fall in line,
With rotten apples, drinking stale wine.
Eyes clouded, they shake hands with the devil,
The scorch marks remain, as they eat and revel.
They have their money, they have their praise,
Their flesh shrivels with age, their souls ablaze.
As the flames lick their heels, they shout in joy,
Dancing hand in hand, they follow the decoy.
And as the devil cackles, with all that he has won,
The ruler of hell, has yet to be outdone.
