Risky Business

Aaren Herron
2 min readNov 19, 2022

Saul Goodman
Never moving forward
Sinner man, a ward with a simple plan
Controller of all fates

Ties to deathly harbingers
Digging graves for those misbehaviors

A journey man waits in the shadow
Hiding their glowing heart
From the purveyors of darkness

Though they constantly bite at the heels stuck in mud
They too get puled down into the sinking pit
Attempting to climb out atop bodies miles deep

Each ricocheting echo plunges them deeper
Head long into a blinded future of clouded dreams
Ones of power through the people
Enforced through much bolder means

Arms reached out like tentacles bathed in the heart beat
Dying embers washed out in style
A hatred of faith presented in pleat
Praying we all look away for a while

Each power grab slower than the next
Running away through an unliving field
Of rotted trunks and bleeding protections
Reinforcing the terrors that dreams yield

Through the chaos of war and struggle
An angelic heroine descends from the clouds above
Demons averting their eyes from the beauty of the humble
The casualties ascending via the embrace of love

A love of the great protector
A powerful enforcer inspiring fear
For those unworthy of an escaped enforcer
Terror of repercussions for those who no longer hear

An Angel’s song blowing through the tunnels of the head
Unclaimed by any but the darkness inside
A powerful reverberance left carved out by lead
A growing mass of darkness seeking to cross the divide

A demon’s song blasting across the heavens
Confusing our hero in her resurrections
Bringing new life into the evil of infections
Emboldening the presence of demonic protections

Her ward attempts to raise her up
Unaware that his tainted hands left the first mark
Bellowing for the darkness to give up
Transferring through the light of an intellectual farce

Left clean and bright
The ward watches as his hero is consumed
Taken into the depths unwilling to fight
A hopeful power left unable to continue

Tainted by the past
The ward offers up a plea
Return her to the world at last
Replacing her with every semblance of me

The instigator of all things you fear
The belittler of any creation near
The usurper of all you hold dear
The devourer of all the brush in the clear

An angel can hope to rise once more
Its wings rotted from the oils below
Struggling to feel the lift of a winded soar
Tearing across wounds unhealed by the glow

Heaven can’t remember the last time
It felt a presence so clear and divine
For all it held dear wont come back this time

A lustful life
Beauty through strife
Chained to the world once seen from above
Unprotected by the wards of love

Does it mean anything
In the long run
A life of purpose defeated
By a feeling so worthless
Imprisoned to reality so treacherous

S’all Good Man
Better give me a call
We’ll come up with a better plan

Until next time
My friend



Aaren Herron

Creative writer working to hone his craft, no longer at the expense of a mental state.