A flippant sale of my soul, a twisted devils pact.

Beauty to keep forever, my youth forever intact.

A hedonistic life to lead, freedom to deal in sin.

Lives left in ruins, fantasies unleashed from within.

 

Fade would mental scars, the devils role to heal.

My portrait bore my sins, a portrait to conceal.

If need be with ease, I can deny my age and name.

But the rats now gather beneath the picture frame.

 

In disbelief old friends, in awe they gasp and stare.

Their face with mine, after 20 years they compare.

I see the cruel sign of aging, beauty gnawed away.

But I am not afflicted, I have not aged a single day.

 

Murder I committed, without an ounce of guilt.

I abandoned every moral on which my life was built.

To pursue every untold pleasure, was my only aim.

And I did this in abundance, without a hint of shame.

 

Confession now I seek, I need to cleanse my soul.

Immortality is a burden, my conscience it has stole.

My portrait rots in the attic, under lock and key.

The world must never see, the monster that is me.

 

A deformed and infested picture, blistered and peeled.

It has become a Devils mirror, all my vile sins revealed.

To destroy my evil past, I take a dagger to its heart.  

My soul I want returned, of that devils life I want no part.