A Demon's Weeping.

  • A Demon's Weeping.

    The dremora wept that night.

    Remorseful of the bitter fight.

    Surrounded by those who could not see further than his skin,

    And would have killed him with a grin.

    He wept that night.

    As he felt his sorrow bite.

    It flashed before him, 

    his childhood, so grim.

    The wars and battle glee.

    And the consequences only he could see.

    He was called then,

    by a vampire, in a corrupted group of men.

    Kill he did that night.

    So he could be free to do what was right.

    The farmers ran for him,

    wielding fire and death to burn his limbs,

    He begged for mercy then.

    To receive none, again.

    Their bodies now lay on the ground,

    and his tears fell on the battleground.

    The arrow hit his skull,

    and he felt the point, so dull.

    He toppled over, regretful.

    and prepared to meet the other devils.

Comments

2 Comments
  • Sotek
    Sotek   ·  May 15, 2016
    Nicely done Lurbuk
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  May 15, 2016
    Neat poem. Moody. Good work.