In the night
He came,
All dressed in grass and dirt,
With weapons made of lighting,
and a hat made of steel.
The noise,
the screams of my brothers and sisters,
They weep tears from their skin, red with pain,
and my father doesn't wake up.
The sight,
Death and daemons swallow us whole,
The mouth of Hell opens,
and skeletal hands tighten.
The fumes,
All I can smell is sorrow,
it burns my nostrils with fire,
and stings my lungs.
They fly,
Overhead metal birds of prey,
Dropping smoke and flame,
Crushing bricks like flowers.
He came in the night,
Dressed in shadows of black,
With paintbrushes coloured crimson,
and a heart made of stone.