The Devil

Pitch-black night sky,
Eerie wind swaying the trees,
Glowing moon eliminates the silver,
Freshly polished for its duty,

She continues her walk through the woods,
The treetops watch her every move,
The leaves fall from the persistent wind,
And are crushed under her weight,

Creatures of the night run from her path,
Nothing can stop her,
She has that sinister look in her eyes,
Her body is possessed and walks its path,
With the knife in hand,

No living soul is around to meet death,
Her feet steadily hit the ground,
Not pausing for a single startling sound,

She reaches a spot deep in the woods,
Where the trees are cleared,
And the moon lightens a meadow of tall grass,

She waits for something unknown,
The knife slips from her hand,
Into the grasp of a killer,
On that spot of grass she is slaughtered,
Just like every other night she dies,
Dies the same death,
Exactly identical to the night before,
And continually she goes to Hell,

Every night she meets her doom,
But is for once happy to she the sight of her master,
The Devil himself,
His evil overwhelming the world,
And the beloved hero to so many,
And day after day she lives again,
Even though the Devil got his wish,
To kill the Devil herself---

*Wow-I dont even understand this poem myself...I just sat down and started writing what was on my mind and how I was feeling at the time. I posted this just to see what other people think---I might not keep it posted but I thought I`d see what the reaction will be because I dont know what I think of it*