A carefully selected few.

I want to be sorry for dropping the rope, but i’m not

there’s a darkness in your heart that has long gone to rot.

The saviour of the broken is a charismatic role

created for those that crave the devils burning hole.

Not all want to be saved, your words are a waste,

some of us want only for teeny tiny taste.

The weakest see the most yet their strength goes unseen,

they understand the words you utter and what the silence means.


Karen Hayward ©2015.

The soul of the devils soldier.

My dearest devils soldier,
i dreamt of you last night,
So bitter and angry,
that i had put out your light.
You hissed at me,
and then you fleed,
I couldn’t fill your deep need.
I’ve dreamt of you all this week,
a reminder from the devil,
That you were never mine to keep.
Each time evil in your face,
As you realised, finally
I had left without a trace.
I hope, one day you’ll see,
It was the only way for you to be free.
I let go of the string,
That connected our souls,
In the hope that one day you’ll know, you’ll get,
A life without a regret,