Tormentors Regret

Silent is the night as the demon awakes from his restless sleep cursed of love and ridiculed of hate he crawls on the floor of the earth weeping the sorrows of the lost souls choking back the tears that don't fall with the screams of salvation from the innocent its his beauty they don't call the meek will inherit the grounds we walk by turning the other face to face as he howls to wake the dead and march on our tormentors and their very lost souls ... Brooke Dylan