To My Wayward Sons (Supernatural Poetry)

Apocalypse Rising

"I was the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition." ~Castiel

~*~

The hellhounds, they finally caught up with me

And dragged me into the deepest layers of hell

I suffered for what felt like twice an eternity

There was no foreseeable escape, that much I could tell

.

Until I suddenly awoke with a jolt, under the earth

Asleep in my own grave, six feet under the dirt

An angry red mark on my shoulder, a handprint, sign of reborn

Left by the dark angel that pulled me into salvation

.

Now whispered secrets lie ahead, betrayal and alliance

The wind is blowing up a tempest, shed blood and defiance

Tenebris starts to seep in the planet, as war hangs a heavy cloud

Creatures and tricksters run amok, leaving a hopeless trail in their shroud

.

The dark angel has spoken, his uttered words like painful static

All demons lie with burning eyes, helpless and pathetic

I've got another ally now, but now I'm not sure I could still trust

Because my very own brother's burying earth-shattering secrets under the dust.