One by one you’ve shown me,
The demons, of your mind,
Scars that they’ve left you,
And past specters hanging by.

You point to them and shudder,
Hug yourself and cry,
To quickly wipe away the tears,
To take my hand, and bring me, anywhere but here.

Through grey waste and hell-scape peaks,
To quaint and pretty things,
Shiny baubles in a broken land,
To stare at, and lock the mind away.

You stare downwards at the Earth,
Turning something in your hand,
I reach out and brush your face,
You glance up, by God, those brilliant eyes.

I take your chin and guide it up,
Too long you’ve viewed the floor,
Now gaze upon endless, starry night,
Look up, twinkling, hope is there.

Under gleaming angel night,
Darkness dares not tread,
Here your inner true self glows,
And your beauty ethereal, sublime.

Still I hold you close to me,
For fear lingers in the mind,
But, as ever, I gesture to the sky,
Watch with me, soon shall be, the glorious sunrise.

Gods walk among the mortals this day
Ares, our lord, broke his chains
The spirit of war marches against us
But he trained his children well
His sons too walk the fields
My brothers and I hear their whispers
And their promises are true, but alas
We have spoken at length before

Thanos and Hermes are about
I expect to meet their master soon
Nix has taken early claim today
Have we angered the Twins?
Perhaps, and so I pray
The crippled god takes pity and hold us
At least ‘till now his works have held
Their clash sounds Eris’ laughter

Black clouds and savage tides break
Upon walls and stakes of bronze
Sick and stagnant the flesh lies
(The carrion birds do not like the shade)
Watered by barbarian’s red ichor
But we too bleed – I swear it flows gold!
Brother after brother kneels, cloaks re-dyed
And we step forth, walls remade again

Soon my shield will be used to patch
And then – How should Minos judge?
What warrior could take Elysium?
No, I have spilt too much blood
Asphodel? An eternity in the dark…
It could well be the Pit, behind bronze walls
An irony of fate, and perhaps appropriate
In truth, I yearn for the Lethe…

A break in the wall, a brother fallen
I offer forth my spear, then patch it
Around me, iron faces, beyond pain
Beyond fear, our backs to our families
Bearing the scars of our devotion
They did not break us, but forged us
So come, bring Hell’s fires
A good death is its own reward

A cold, obsidian blade, dipped in warm red
Frees forth a fluttering butterfly

A thousand diamonds in the night,
Twinkling, sparkling, is their light.
The earthly sight of angel tears,
Shed for sorrows no one hears.
The pains of those long lots to years,
What do they know of pray-bound fears?
Do they lack the skill, the might,
Why do they restrict themselves to sight?