Just be silent,
There’s no point in talking when nobody’s listening,
Beautiful and violent,
How the cold and red rain is still glistening.

And the shadows that fall as I stare off in space,
Even they keep their distance,
To torment a soul surrounded in so sadistic a case,
Rarely provokes persistence.

So I lay here reclined, and in their radiance I rage,
Feeling nothing but their fear,
As expected the specters know their role on this stage,
They dare not draw near.

Innately I intend to iron out the ironies,
Perhaps now isn’t the time,
The shadows begin to circle in the most perfected of harmonies,
But I will keep what’s mine.

Finally, my senses begin to take their toll,
And I get to my feet,
My heart is pounding as I take my rightful role,
And the demons and I meet.

Because all that I have has already gone away,
Dead and naked on the floor,
I make all but one poltergeist pay,
And I refuse to fight anymore.

Impossible to persist upon so much pain,
In the darkness I am driven,
For adding some warmth to the cold and red rain,
The final fiend is forgiven.

Twisted Moon

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/raksha-bandhan-3/