Relentless

I walked through the valley of the shadow.
And it was not the shadow of death,
but the shadow of life that wishes it was death.
Of the resurrected faults and open skin.
It is a valley of hauntings and familiar oddities.
The demons are comrades, the blades are common.
The leaves fall, blood red, into the puddles of shimmering water,
that give a reflection of what doesn't want to be seen.
And their image screams"give in give in"
"cry cry".
And they are relentless in their battery until they are echoing through the trees and over hills
and mountains.
They are relentless.
They are relentless.