On Patrol

time no longer matters

in this land of no return,

where control of existence

is power;

even among the least of men;

if you listen

you can hear the thunder

of the demons beating heart,

crying out in agony

for a chance to unleash

its deadly putrid vile;

dreams fill the void,

crossing bridges of despair

over chasms of life,

goddess of the night,

come warm your icy soul

from the heat of lust,

generated by a thousand

beastly cries;

once there was honor,

now there is darkness,

cold, hard, empty,

power with no reason

other than power,

death with no meaning

other than death;

angels of light

mourn for lost lovers,

impaled by their existence

to gods who cannot hear,

sleep comes slow

for those who lay and wait

in their coffins of pain,

as silence stalks its prey,

seeking to devour

its just rewards,

waiting for a dawn

that never comes,

cast down

into pits of emptiness,

where cold hard reality lurks,

as eagles burst into flames,

and die screaming

their last goodbyes.

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