Raksha Bandhan Poem by Twisted Moon

Just be silent,
There’s no point in talking when nobody’s listening,
Beautiful and violent,
How the cold and red rain is still glistening.

And the shadows that fall as I stare off in space,
Even they keep their distance,
To torment a soul surrounded in so sadistic a case,
Rarely provokes persistence.

So I lay here reclined, and in their radiance I rage,
Feeling nothing but their fear,
As expected the specters know their role on this stage,
They dare not draw near.

Innately I intend to iron out the ironies,
Perhaps now isn’t the time,
The shadows begin to circle in the most perfected of harmonies,
But I will keep what’s mine.

Finally, my senses begin to take their toll,
And I get to my feet,
My heart is pounding as I take my rightful role,
And the demons and I meet.

Because all that I have has already gone away,
Dead and naked on the floor,
I make all but one poltergeist pay,
And I refuse to fight anymore.

Impossible to persist upon so much pain,
In the darkness I am driven,
For adding some warmth to the cold and red rain,
The final fiend is forgiven.