The Chief of Satan then lives.
In order to make it big.
The bright morning star is really Kid.
Intact, he flows, he then bids.
The souls crack as if it were a twig.
Souls lost, they contemplate to die.
Not realizing after death, the souls then rise.
Suicide thoughts, progressing within the light.
A dark immortal, it embodies the night.
To know, is to bless whatever is bright.
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