poetry

I, for him

I come from a family of deliverance,
My mother,
Her mother,
Many mothers before them.

We are the shadow chasers,
The monster hunters,
Those whom kill sin and curses.

And he was but starlight,
He was goodness,
Holy and pure sunshine,
But after a while,
He came back wrong.

They touched his smile- it turned teary eyed,
They touched his imagination- it withered,
They touched his heart- it shattered and bled.

Every monster,
Every demon,
Every shade,
Anyone who put their hands on him,
Who tainted his soul,
Will be hunted.

Their kind are to not exist-
They will hurt all who they can.

Whomever they lay their hands on
Will bleed
And cry
And scream.

I come from a bloodline of
DELIVERANCE.

Those who which are due to be free of sin
Shall be delivered from it
By my bloody claw.

I will not sacrifice myself for their death,
But I must still help whom I can.

I will keep myself as whole as possible
So that I may continue to bring forth
Wrath and justice.

May my daughter
One day
Be strong enough
To do the same.