tonight
the demons come
so he drinks to blend his body
with that of the chittering dread
to hide his heart behind the fires of hell
a small respite from lurking spectres
who call from the lonely void
that emptiness one must embrace
to survive the deeds of dealing death
and still remain
a man

tonight
the demons come
so he smokes to gird the spirit
like brigandine for the soul
for when the demons drift
his fallen eyes
in the corners they go clawing
they whisper hollow threats
from spectral pyres
aflame with caustic memories
the residue of violence
etched into the warrior stone
the crumbling marker
that guards his living grave
the only proof
he ever
lived

and still
the demons come