A racing pulse that threatened to cease
As feet found ground a childhood keeps
Stored in a memory’s darkest corner
Brought to the surface only to slaughter
What little peace and voice of quiet
Would spark to life in place of riot
That once those streets offered as life
An existence fleeting as blood on a knife
Yet with stride now lengthened by age
A fear once consuming subtly fades
For with each new step deeper into hell
Understanding dawns that Soul never fell
Of all that was taken the cost has been paid
That innocence lost with a demon replaced
But one that chooses when rage is required
Cast in that hell but now free from it’s fires