Poetry Based on Variant's Fire Book Series

With my Hellfire (Pyre's Point of View)

What am I, you ask?
Defective,
Yet apex.
I stand here,
Frozen like ice,
Yet burning with rage.
My mission is simple.
With maximum lethality,
I execute the mission.
Protecting the innocent, the vulnerable,
And saving the abused,
As I burn away the guilty.

I patrol,
Hunting the abusers,
As I generate my hellfire,
From the pain that burns within.
Enraged, I manipulate the self-same flame,
Solidifying fire and resolve.
In black-clad hand I hold,
Shrapnel and blades,
Crafted of crystalline fire.
These weapons I wield in fury,
While walls of fire erupt skyward.
These walls solidify, hard as steel,
A shield for the innocent,
Salvation for the abused.

I am a Pyre,
Upon which I burn the abusers,
Born of the evil I slay.
Regardless of gender and race,
Disregarding matters of faith,
Whether God fearing, or Godless,
These Innocents are mine to protect.

Innocent children are unworthy of death.
Maybe they pray,
Or maybe they don't.
Regardless, I answer their hope,
For a hero to save them,
From these back ally gunmen.
Still, I'm no hero.
I am merely one man,
Doing the necessary.

No bullets touch these victims.
No, I won't let bullets strike them,
Or blades slice them.
Any innocent blood spilled,
Is an outcome I never accept.
I won't fail, no.
I won't let myself fail, so.

Driven by demons that haunt me,
I charge forth,
Like a bullet from a loaded gun.
These citizens, their children, all innocents,
They are my charges.
For them, I stand guard,
Even when dirty cops and crooked lawyers,
Don't, won't, press any charges,
I charge in.
I am a hell-bound hellhound,
Guard-dog of the abused,
Shepard of the innocent.
Whether they know it or not,
I stand my ground
I stand guard.

Fists, knives, and bullets,
All fly at me.
Bodies and brass hit the ground,
As criminals throw themselves on the pyre,
And I burn them away.
Ashes to Ashes.
Dust to Dust.
Earth to Earth.

My blood flows through these wounds,
From my veins.
Arterial bleeds.
Bandages cover the damages,
As I find my target.
Under fire, I engage,
I eviscerate,
The abusers.

I know I'm not untouchable.
I know I'm merely a mortal.
But I'm touched by the rage,
The fear and the pain,
Both mine, and my charges'.

Tonight, I burn bright.
My warmth a glowing embrace,
Warding off the icy wind,
For those left out in the cold,
By society's rotten decay.
Corrupt officials,
In a broken system,
The apathy all over,
That I fight all over,
That I fight with hellfire.

My eye in the fire,
Lain upon the burning pyre,
Sees every atrocity.
The robbers,
The murderers,
The child beaters.
It sees the scum,
These guilty abusers,
Whom escape unscathed.
And it sees their victims,
Whom laws have failed.

As I fight, I wonder.
I ask myself,
How do others live with themselves?
Knowing, seeing, such evil,
And doing nothing, nothing at all!
To help the victims!
To stop the abuse!
What, did they sell their souls, their decency,
For the latest luxury off the shelf?
The time for talk is dead,
Has been for some time.
It's time to act tonight.

A storm of shrapnel,
Forged in the flames of my rage.
With thunder above,
And fire bellow,
Chaos surrounds me,
As I fight on.

Hostile blows break my bones.
Arterial blood pours out,
From torn skin and punctured flesh.
These hemorrhages, I cauterize.
Then I push on.

My breaking point's near!
Pushing my limits,
My breaking point is here!
Oh, I already passed it!
My will and wrath,
Invincible, they spur me on.
Now I burn through abusers,
With my hellfire.

**Please note--this poem is written from the point of view of the main protagonist (Pyre/Alex Westsmith) in my novel, Variant's Fire, which is available on Amazon in eBook, Hardcover, and Paperback formats.

Amazon:

https://a.co/d/0br4s7Uj