" The Triumph Of Despair "
On fertile soil
within our mind,
the demons feed
subconsciously.
Burrowing,
seeking thoughts
of self reproach,
munching on our
ugliness.
Though dormant,
they gather strength
and present themselves
in dreams.
Ah! child,
when the nightstorms
gather,
driving you to wakefulness,
the ego feels their pinch.
Shapeshifters,
the demons smirk,
presenting their power
in thought;
obsessive, circular,
enveloping.
Day becomes night,
life seems an illusion,
despair triumphs,
the ego cries,
cowardly.
V
c 2005 Deabler, V.T.
posted by V @ 8:57 PM
Comments: 7
