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| The Devil's Doing | |
| By stan | ||||||||||
| 17 February 2007 | ||||||||||
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I came up with this one night while walking home though a storm. I'm not too clear on this poetry lark, I just write it fom the heart. Some advice or feedback would be greatly appreciated seeing as I haven't the faintest clue about poetry. The Devil's doing: A storm Twas a stormy, stormy night, A night so full of darkest fright, But as the humans lay in their beds, The hounds of hell embarked upon their gentle heads, And as the storm grew in strength, The humans heard at length, the horror from outside their humble doors, And as the dogs began to bark, At the ever looming dark, The humans lay helpless upon their floors, But the storm would not be done, Until the devil had had his fun, When the storm came rumbling over the moors.
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