The Demon’s Pulse By themischievousannaSeptember 30, 2015 ( 1 ) Dragging down the moribund, Delicate Feasts called to chaos Mastication at their fear hung, Out of touch, Out of sight Closer than their heart, Beating the drum Of the Demon’s Pulse. Advertisements Share this:Share on TumblrTweetMoreEmailPrintPocketLike this:Like Loading... Categories: WritingTags: art, death, depression, emotions, Fiction, fiction&poetry, life, poetry, Thoughts, writing Related Articles Her Amorphous Grin. By themischievousanna1 day ago ( 0 ) Fleeting Restraints. By themischievousanna3 days ago ( 0 ) Every Shadow had its Crevice. By themischievousanna6 days ago ( 0 ) 1 comment › johnlmalone October 3, 2015 • 11:06 pm I thought it read ‘The Demon’s Purse’. Now that is a good title for a story 🙂 LikeLiked by 1 person Reply ↓ Leave a Reply Cancel reply Enter your comment here... Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Email (required) (Address never made public) Name (required) Website You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change ) You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change ) You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change ) You are commenting using your Google+ account. ( Log Out / Change ) Cancel Connecting to %s Notify me of new comments via email.