Well, if you were to write a story 'bout life,
Would you proclaim its beauty, or point out its strife?
Would you ponder the beginning, how'd it all start?
Or would you search for what it means to, 'have a heart'?

I'd look for the pattern, waiting to be found.
I'd listen for the rhythm to which the world goes 'round.
I'd magnify the line between scheme and sin.
I'd unlock the secret of those demon-like jinn.

But alas, these answers don't just come to mind.
For they are as real and unreal as time.
So instead, my little search is set,
With the closest things to demons, you'll ever get'