Here is Pain's portfolio! I hope you enjoyed his poetry—don't worry this is not the end. This is certainly not the end.

There is much to come. It's just Pain has switched from poetry to journaling (he still does a little poetry every now and then).

Be ready for A Demon's Journal (considering calling it a diary ;3) that will be up soon!

My life Story

All has been taken from me

My life, my rights, my innocence

Nothing remains of the young man

Who once possessed my body

Now all that remains is darkness

Lifeless and emotionless

What point is there in documenting my story?


The pain of existence is hard to bare

For one who has seen many ages

It drives the mind insane

The eternal agony

Of one's immortality

Wages of Sin

In the dark I see no light

In the light I still see darkness

And the face of one whose evil exceeds all other

Can it be that this is the price of my sins

Can it be that even the Tormentor

Has his Tormentress?


What pride?

Is there anything that remains?

All has been stolen from me.

Dignity. Purity.

And Pride.

Predator and Prey

The preying Tormentress

Her desires so cruel and warped

Why is it me she chooses?

Is it for my sins?

Or have I simply been cursed

With a shadow stalking my every step

And waiting until I am vulnerable

Before she strikes

So ruthless

And cold.


Freedom is a myth
There is no such thing
Centuries I have struggled in vain
Under the illusion
That freedom would be my reward
Now I realize I was a fool
Freedom does not exist
Not for me


My tormentress returned

As she vowed

What a fool was I to believe

I could simply be rid of her

She is my shadow

My price for my sins

Death could not compare

To what torment awaited me

My cruel punishment.


Bloody sheets

A shattered pride

And a scarred mind

Were all that remained

Of that horrific night

In France

Blood and tears

Flowed like the Nile

As I was branded

With scars

My tormentress, she said

She owned me

And she has proven her words

Not once was I taken

But over and again

Until I could no longer stand it

And I slipped into blackness

What a beautiful color black is…


I can no longer feel my body

Nor my soul

All has burned in the flames from which I came

I am numb

Demons to Fight

In a man's darkest hour

Battling the demons within

Would they ever stop and wonder

Do the demons fight their own?

A desperate plea

A promise broken

A war waged within

Even demons

Have their battle to wage

And as they fight

They are more alone

Than ever before

This is their battle

The outcome is theirs.


Never have I wandered so aimlessly

So lost and uncertain

I know not who I am,

Nor whom I want to be

I am neither man nor demon

I am lost

For ages I believed I was wicked

I was ruthless and sick

And there was no way for me to change

Yet now I am seeing

That even demons change

For better

Or for worse


A question

Intricately simple

Who am I?

I am not myself

Nor am I another

Nor am I the demon inside me

Nor the human within

Who am I?

This is simple

I am nameless.


Into the night sky

Drift my worries

Dotting the sky like stars

I have never slept

Like this ever before

Was it because I was nameless

Because I was without purpose

Or because my Tormentress

Was no where to be found?

Scars of Before

My heart is no longer stone

Nor black as the night

It has been molded

By the human soul within me

Into a different creation

One I do not recognize

One that feels for those

That pass me by

With pain in their eyes

One that feels remorse

For the wicked things

I have done in the past

And the pain I inflicted

Upon those innocent

And guilty, alike

One that wonders

If those who pass me by

See the scars

Of the things I had done

And the things

that have been done to me

Does anyone see

The scars of before?


The warrior's sword

So sleek and slender

So fleet and precise

It's beauty beyond compare

Yet even it can be stained

With the blood of innocents

Is nothing sacred?

Is nothing pure?

In this world so corrupt

Surely, not.


I was not prepared

For her return

She had changed

For the worst

I had changed as well

For what I am not sure

But all of that

Was destroyed

For my Tormentress

Sold me to another.


Shame is all I know

Regret and shame

I am a slave once more

And I am used

To torment innocents

I hardly know

The nameless soul

Has become a slave

And the slave

Has become the Tormentor.

I am a dog to the master

I bend to his will

Showing little defiance

What a disgrace am I.


Escape was in my reach

So close was I to freedom

The nonexistent ideal

When my Tormentress arrived

And chained me to a leash.


Kindness was alien to me

Yet it was introduced to me

By one I would have never expected

By one who had a passion for justice

Justice being my death

The fury in this angel's eyes

Melted to compassion

And kindness was displayed to me

For the first time.

My Path

My path was not diverged in a narrow wood

Nor did it stand plainly before me

It was something I had to discover

Blindly in the dark

Alone, I stood not a chance

Against the consuming darkness

That disheartened the spirit

And bound the soul with every step

But in the ruthless obscurity

A warm hand slipped into mine

And guided me through


What is home?

People have said

It is somewhere you belong

But how do you know?

How do you know you belong?

Is it the place you were born?

Or the place you were raised?

I have found that home

Was a place I had never stepped foot in.


The shadow will never leave me

It drags the inescapable fear behind me

As I try to move forward

But it chains me to the past

And my wicked masters.