My armoured Demon
The demon is always riding under my clothes,
In the darkness of crawling night,
Even when the dawn stumbles down my windows,
It is intermittent in my soul with swallowed fight.
I saw the flesh of life thrown on the pyre,
As the wolves tore and bled the land with their vicious desires,
Foxes spun their conniving webs to put the world on fire,
A butterfly like me which played with colors can't escape the wildfires.
Every core is sewn with white and black threads,
The demons are walking on the streets with buttered up smiles,
And then they come to me as I am the seed of what we call wild,
Forgetting that this breeding darkness is our created child.
This demon breathes within like an armoured knight,
These are broken times in the dark ages,
Blood is splattered at every phases that shrouds the light,
You call me evil but I am just a speck in the blazing purgatory that chases.