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My Saints...now My Demons.
Saints turned to demons
Purity stained with grit
A heart yelling for deliverance
Muffled by a mind calling for vengeance
Knowledge was silenced by blind rage.
World turned up side down
Faith clung to for hearts grown weak
Minds cracked under pressure
Faith was all they had left in the
Revolting days and flighty nights.
Hung and crushed
By their faith in others
And saved by their faith in
Night’s lonesome powers
Delivered to their heavenly home
By their faith.
Hope was known
To be no good on this test
This was life or death.
This test turned my saints to demons
And demons into saints
The test
The test was vengeance, integrity,
And though there could have been reason
Was based out of lunacy.
Saints left this world
bludgeoned and blood,
Demons left pure and with a halo.
poem
by
Chantel Weston
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