Demons lurching and prowling at the innards tormenting
Disastrous thoughts compelling every movement
Keeping all personal compassion idle by unnecessary woes
Claws tearing away the fine layers of conscience
Robed with a hundred years of torment, tied at the waist
All without a yelp of terror
All in good time of faith does the burden remain
All for the surviving factions of purveyors
I have dreamed of this day
Written down in my books of faith
That record my weakest of thoughts
Together with my wisdom once preached
And demons; I have drawn your soured skin
Your scales with hair
Claws and beaks searching for the deepest dagger
Tentacles, wings, horns, and whipping tales
Growling teeth and pointed ears
Patiently awaiting this demise
There will be no more pain
The sins I demolish with faith
For tomorrow I shall rise
Without the gates of hell beckoning me
And peace will fall
Amongst the villains and saints
