What the Hell? Demonomania
He found he was obsessed with hell—
It didn’t suit him very well
(He was a huge fan of Adele).
But demons fascinated him
(I know, I know—it’s awfully grim)—
They filled his cup, clear to the brim.
He’d do whatever he could do
To summon them into his view:
He’d chant or he would mix a brew
Of nasty, purely evil things—
And all had fangs; a few had wings;
A few had once been parts of kings.
Then one day all the summoned came—
And he, of course, bore all the blame
When all of them then filed a claim
For his poor everlasting soul.
And down he went—the deepest hole—
Where demons live in fiery coal.