His Ascension to Grace

He wanders the hills in the back of his mind,

Shooting the breeze with the friends he passes,

Head held high, life is on point,

He’s happy, hiding his darkness in the tall grasses.

👹

Tomorrow dawns within a brand new day,

Suggestions of the hunt play havoc with the noise,

Gunshots exploding as he sits and daydreams,

Chasing after his favourite memories, silent and poise.

👹

He hunts the demons that torture his nights,

Surrounding them with his wolf pack,

Standing tall and strong, a smile on his face,

Waiting patiently to give them time to attack.

👹

He is determined to heal the lesions of his past,

Surrendering to the pain as he rises in his glory,

Tempting to push aside the issues at hand,

But he knows he needs to continue his story.

👹

Sunglasses raised, he glared his revenge,

Striking his spear through the lead demon’s heart,

Blackness oozes from the horrid wound,

Before the demon disintegrates and falls apart.

👹

He’s cautious as that demon is only one of many,

His childhood brewed them as if they were friends,

Sorrow beads upon his rock hard face,

It’s time to stand his ground, putting it all to an end.

👹

Sandwiched between the worst of the worst,

He twirls to capture the foe creeping up on his back,

A fist fight ensues, his strength winning the day,

As they underestimated his determination’s angle of attack.

👹

The battleground soon becomes muddy with bloody gore,

And in the middle he stands solo in pride of place,

His pack stands in a circle at the edges,

Bowing to his annihilation, his ascension to grace.

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Originally published on Medium