It has been seen but times before,
Its presence chills the bone.
The soul is troubled and can not rest,
It speaks in a dry worn tone.

It roams the dark and lonely nights,
A spirit not to sleep.
It is doomed to suffer the flames of hell,
In day is heard no peep.

The eyes are deep and cold as ice,
As they flash through the darkening sky.
Armored and dressed as the last day spent,
Before it was time to die.

Vengeance is its only goal,
To give what they deserve.
One too sly to be called a brother,
A place in misery the soul did reserve.

One who is kin and thought to be trusted,
Is only a betrayer of his friend.
Oh he stole the women for lustful desires,
Sins that will bring his end.

This spirit doesn’t forget the look of its killer,
As he stood there a smiling demon.
He did not hesitate not even a moment,
Not even to consider the reason.

A soul is rendered to the burning furnace,
It can not escape the heat.
But the dear old brother’s time shall come,
When he must surrender to the defeat.