[CENTER]TOPIC - THE DEVIL'S DEAL
This could be the calamity of offers with no amnesty or coffers..
The black oiled paint drips with half faded blood stained vanity of a law firm..
So sits the Subject subjected to all this amongst a Majesty of Faulters..
And the savagery don't falter or fall apart to call it off as cavities halter..
The air breeds as a foundry of monotony clouding foul scenes of the menage; it reeks..
As decomposing hours streak a sour ease of power where this sole soulless council seats..
Brown beaten Mahogany greets with sounds of trickery from Hells founder in speech..
While Party A sits thumbing pages to contemplate an agree while dumbfounded of greed..
Impatient, the infectious host pushes to have this unholy of Nexuses eloped..
And trecherous hopes find growth as the neck relishes the most threatening groans..
The Subject nervous, shifts and notes a black rose undergoing Necrosing tones..
Like exorcist omens, deathly tomes. Wore in the face of this Lender like a necklace or cologne..
Now the Borrower wonders "why did this opportunity knock.? Is it possibly crock.?"
Maybe its drunk dreaming leaving the mind stumped, believing the possible foolery mocks..
Then reality chimes like novelty clocks as the pen becomes alive and nonchalanty jots..
"This is your sins being repaid." The pen then barbs the hand to be the Proprietarys prop..
The Demonic voice yells "You either going to sign or die in this Hell.!"..
And while the thoughts cliched, the Subject feels conveyed to say "This is quite expensive to sell"..
"Even you would find the legalities a strain on mentalities. And I must say its doing it well"..
A pause before an answer which strikes like a cancer. "Your here because the way the cards fell"..
"Hardly dealt a bad hand, but damn, certainly a horror to how this little sin dwelled"..
Minds racing now, spacing out. Staring at etchings in a Throne, picturing sketches of a home..
A place where this mellow Federalistic drone watched a seven year exiled Exodus grow..
Ignoring Heavenly ohms from deafening throws that pointed out every evidence known..
The Subject was too happy in forgetting the blows that bruised one's pettiless moans..
And so sits that pain in a pane of glass painfully painting the price of the past..
Sealing strife in the strikes that struck so stainfully now severly syphoning like sand..
But there's no flipping the hourglass, for once that last hours past- the signing is had..
It'll be iron clasps binding the hands and Subjects blood left smeared on the ivory pad..
But now shifts the sand and the reminding is mindfully mad that right now the time is at half..
"I think I need some water." A simple tatic stall. "Fine, but this is only getting harder"..
Its really nerve slaughtering taking all this in and finding the roots to what is bartered..
No fine print but exact note to risk "emotional or physical pain" will marry at this legal alter..
"I need to make a call." Said Subject suddenly in grin. "To ensure the validity of this offer"..
Stepped out the room where nostalgic, estrogen loomed. Abberation left to fester the womb..
Talked of Heaven and moves to leverage the doom and find a solid exiting ruse..
All while the pestilence swoomed and shrouded around the taunting text to construe..
It was an effort to woo the mind and heart of this, whom displayed a jestering muse..
Back to the chair. "Do we have a deal.?" The question came with burning confidence..
"I've certainly learned alot from it." Response said like a slap of working dominance..
And the dance done like a Prom of kids. When appeared a shadow of the Omninent..
The thunderous voices clashed. "This is my dwelling and I'm in control.!"
"Yes, but this