The Darker Thoughts of me, Not sorry.

Raised by Wolves

Do you see the way his eyes bleed black,
The way the wounds dampen the linen across his back?
Don't see the daggers hanging from his chest,
Points of blades, doing what they do best
Killing, stealing the words from this mans heart.
Draining, reaping the wounds for their spare parts.
Nurtured from hell, and raised by wolves,
Broken bones, and a tortured soul,
The man stood sturdy, yet leaning just a bit.
Made of stone, solid as granite.
Though this rock has been cracked.
Gravity pulls him closer, begging to see him lack.
Taking, breaking and pulling him under, Hell wants him back.
Yet the man stood taller and braved the storms, because his demon father was the leader of the attack.
Father didn't know that angels showed him to the pack,
Learning to kick some ass, and batter through a broken back.

Many wars have scarred and left some holes.
ready to conquer all, and steal back the time that the devil had stole.
His grip loosened and slowly started to fall.
The forest silenced itself, and all the creatures gathered in awe.
The savior of life, has finally seen his all.
He lay there still, with his eyes still looking up, for the mans journey came to an end, but he never stopped admiring the fall.
A single tear fell from his eye, happy to lay still.
No more breathing, just nothing more than free will.
A bottle slipped his hand, and within, laid no single pill.