The Demon

by Shawn Ervin

This journey I make alone, down further into the brimstone,
I enter the realm seeing nothing but anger and hate,
A stench of death and decay, the feeling of the prey,
Before it is destroyed by the hunter, the feeling it’s too late,
It comes for me; I can feel the anger in my heart rate,
I can feel it in my soul, it comes for me.

As I proceed forward, I hear the screeching of death’s bird,
Its eyes are red, its soul filled with hate and wickedness,
The demon plummets down, spiraling and crashing to the ground,
From the devastation claws rise and hoists the evilness,
Of a creation born to kill purity and goodness,
I can feel it in my soul, it came for me.

Fire and barren rolls from its eyes, as it swallows hope in a cry,
A shriek that pierces my core and inner being,
Something familiar about that, the screech sounding flat,
It sounded young and innocent like a child’s scream,
Perhaps the soul of the wrongfully taken it seems,
I can feel it in my soul, what has come for me?

It swings it claws at me, I parry aside breaking free,
I draw the sword from my sheath and ready to defend,
We sidestep and flank, the beast towering on the bank,
Of a river of sorrow and damned souls flowing to no end,
The beast’s claws and the sword clash, the battle begins,
I can feel it in my soul; the beast is here for me.

I duck and strike the demon, it shrieks fearing the end,
It sounds so familiar; I’ve heard the passion in that cry,
Then my heart drops, anger and sorrow fill me to my top,
Distracted by the realization the beast grabs my soul and pries,
My son is in there, his soul taken and swallowed, I cry,
I can feel it take my soul, the beast is killing me.

The pain and anguish filled me, Tears filled my eyes; I couldn’t see,
I remember the day I remember when he died,
He was so full of hope and joy; he was such a beautiful boy,
I couldn’t keep my life together no matter how hard I tried,
This beast took him from me, “You will pay”, I cried,
I can feel my soul; the beast will answer to me.

I grabbed the beast by the gullet; I pull my soul and capture it,
My hate grows and grows inside of me, to the point of rage,
My anger is pointed to a focus; saving my son is a must,
I must free my son; free his soul from that monstrous cage,
This demon will answer for its sins and it will feel my rage,
I return my soul; the beast will die before me.

I drop the sword and attack, wildly assaulting it front then the back,
The demon drops to the ground face first as my attack is wild,
I claw and rip at the beast, releasing souls that was once feasted,
I tear deeper into the fiend hunting for my child,
Until finally I find him, his soul is released and unriled,
I freed his soul, the beast will answer me.

The demon will answer to me; I’ll show no compassion, no mercy,
I strike down on the creature again with no result,
I pull back for another blow; something grabs my arm from below,
I turn to see my son holding me back from my assault,
He stops me from killing, from being at fault
I can see his soul, the beast has become me.

He smiles and cries at me; my baby boy I can see,
The compassion in his eyes, heart, and soul,
It’s not the living that you, have the final answer to,
But the dead who will pass judgment on your soul,
My son grabs the beast while God pours the seventh bowl.
My son freed my soul, the beast is taken from me.

From: 
Whispers and the Unconscience Mind




ABOUT THE POET ~
I'm Shawn Ervin I'm the everyday average American loser. I keep fighting to get ahead but fall further and further behind. I've been writing for 25 years and never took it seriously. Now I'm going to try.


Last updated January 07, 2012