In the space between moments
Midnight whispers seduce the night,
Cursing from the shadows of hell.
Upon us is the eve of ruby flight,
Among us now, our demons dwell.
Evil harvested upon raven wing,
Deeply infecting our innocent souls.
Of eternal grief the blackness sings,
As murderous rage frightfully grows.
Deadened limbs pierce dulled heavens,
Mournfully reaching for silenced hope.
The bitter released to commit their sins,
Immersed in madness, destined never to cope.
By tortured spirits, insanity now embraced,
Souls shackled by empty promises of light.
Blades of steel memory they once faced,
Now softened by a rich burgundy sight.
On a single night, hell's cauldron boils,
Sending a bitter rain of destruction.
Once a year may our demons tread our soil,
And force our weary souls from shining sun.
I walk with the multitude, yet alone am I in their midst. -- Daniel L. Miller