A Demon protecter for me
Not the horned, the clawed, the fire-breathing kind.
Mine is a shadow that walks beside me,
a whisper against the wind,
a presence that chills the airwhen ill intent draws near.
He doesn't carry a sword,
but his gaze can stop a charging bull.
He doesn't forge chains,
but his silence binds fear.
He is the quiet thunderbefore the storm breaks,
the knowing smirkwhen a lie is spun.
He stands in the doorways I cannot see,
a sentinel of dusk and dawn.
He intercepts the whispersthat try to find my ear,
the subtle poison meant to sting.
He is the guardian of my dreams,
the one who fights the nightmaresbefore they even form.
He wears no uniform,
carries no banner.
His allegiance is etchedin the very bones of my existence,
a pact forged in the deep dark,
understood without a spoken word.
My demon protector,
my silent, watchful strength.
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