To My Wayward Sons (Supernatural Poetry)

The Homecoming

We're growing wings of guns

All tattered with bullet holes

Demons have come and run

To shoot pain into our souls

.

Wasting times, wasting light

With cycles of self-sabotage

Fighting agony, fighting night

Tastes of stale tainted blood

.

Sacrifices swallowing stitches

Carrying burdens thus leaden

Why, then we're quite careless

And the whole world has fallen

.

But the soldiers ceased to rally

Tired of these sempiternal wars

Their hearts aren't anymore holy

Reduced to counting jaded stars

.

You'll stay, I have you by my side

With you I hope, my faith revived

In our timelines, another me died

But my brother, you keep me alive

.

The road may be wayward, hours long

But it remains the same, our own song

God, give us a chance to rest our bones

Give us the chance to find our way home.