He scours the land, looking for his feast
An elegant and deceptive beast
The keeper of souls, he searches
Delving the knife deep as he lurches
Blood and corruption all mixed on the blade
Intertwined with little mercy as his memories fade
Deeper into his alter ego, lost to the decay
Devoured by death itself, I heard him say
The innocence of the ones taken, caught up in the house of horrors
While the rest mourn and drown their sorrows
Unknowingly drinking with the Devil himself, he's there with a merry toast
Blessing his virtues, while fighting the urge to boast
Of all the sick things he's done, the blood on his hands
Of all the destruction caused, carnage over this very land
His job is done, the earth supposedly cleansed
The lost souls waiting to be found, it's with love the Devil sends
Now there is nothing left, nothing but the smell of death
YOU ARE READING
Ethereal Abyss
PoesíaPoetry for me began as a much needed escape from the reality of this world. The same endless routines, faceless people day after day. A slow steady evolution began in my solitude as my work started changing from the torturing monotonous cries of esc...
