In the winter night, the Satan dreams
All the blood out with pain and screams,
They are not that paragon, what they show
And here comes the devious halo.
Nothing but it starts in fears
And that darkness which ends in tears.
In the night of only allure,
Where the minds are still not sure.
Where they are afraid of the light,
And don't let the darkness move out of their sight They don't want the light to glow,
And here comes the devious halo.
The outer purity of the demon Saint
Bleed in flow, making them faint.
The desires for what they fell
And that constructs a different hell.
Moving in disguise and there's no way
Near or far, where the Satan say,
They are not the paragon what they show
And here comes the devious halo.
-Saptarshi Mandal