The demon weeps (guardian devil)

His motives bore fruit while bare hands coiled around necks without composure

Weeping without sound for every second wasted on confessions of long forgotten burdens

Barricading these rhymes within closed minds until hatred releases itself from mortal versus

As crooked wings sprouted from shaking spines, the dusk of Hell slew barren of tattered dawns

In place of tears, there was a thick substance raining down from his mirror coated eyes

For a demon that weeps for no one, dreads the day when confronted by his reflecting lies

Mimicking pain grants indulgence over the illusion of vices

While a common guilt shared by the masses begins dwindling of rhyme or reason

In one fist, this demon wields chaos incarnate while the other is barren of red justice

Only to lead our disguised ignorance among the dull sheep to bring rise to true grit and iron