The Demon Would Not Die

We named him Demon so our faith could stand, A curse in armor, one man against command. But curses bleed, and mortals die - So why does he keep walking through the fire? Reach was burning, victory was near, Our ships were hymns, our guns were holy fear. Then green steel rose where the last ships fell, And every triumph opened into hell. We watched him vanish under shattered skies, Then heard his rifle answer from the night. The ring became a grave beneath his feet; He broke the world and still refused defeat. The Prophets said, “Hold fast. The path is clear.” But every prayer came back to us as fear. The Demon would not die, He crossed the flame, he split the sky. One human made an empire learn That sacred worlds can break and burn. The Demon would not kneel, And every wound made terror real. We came to cleanse, convinced, divine - He lived, and doubt entered the line. At Regret’s throne, our holy voice went still; A mortal hand could reach a god and kill. High Charity was choking on its light, While truth and madness fed upon the night. We sent our blades, our fleets, our chosen brave; He made our grand belief their open grave. Each time the dark announced his final breath, His shadow rose behind the news of death. Was he the monster our own lies had made, Or just the proof our heaven could be slain? We called him Demon, never understood: The name concealed the fear beneath the hood. Not fear of strength, nor armor, nor the gun - Fear that our Great Journey had never begun. The Demon would not die, He crossed the Ark beneath a broken sky. One human stood where gods should stand And tore salvation from our hands. The Demon would not kneel; Our golden truth began to peel. We lost the war before the final sign - He lived, and fear outlived the lie. No hymn could drown the final sound: His boots still moving through the ground. We named him Demon to make him less than man - Then watched one man undo the plan.