And My Demons Danced...

 My demons dance at the periphery of my existance…

Threatening to invade and wreck havoc on my soul

With their meaningless cacophony.

 

They try to haunt me every night

With the nightmares they weave out of their  dark whispers,

As the clock strikes three.

I lay awake, as they laugh at my helplessness

That sometimes makes me feel sick…

Of myself.

Of my Life.

Of the world around me.

 

They try to poke at my scars,

That I had always worn with pride.

That I had always adored.

Drinking from the dark tarry blood that oozes, drop by drop,

They try to exsanguinate me into a living dead.

 

Plotting evil schemes, to make me hate myself

To question my very identity.

They try to pull me into a vicious whirlwind of darkness

From where there is no return.

 

Residing within me in the darkest of my depths

Left unchartered, unfathomed, undiscovered…

Where no light ever enters

Where no music has ever tried to break the everlasting errie silence

They know every nook and corner of myself.

They know every crack and crevice of my soul.

 

Little do they know,

That I would rise up again, from whatever left of me

Shining, with whatever light I can find.

Smiling, with the little strength still left.

Caressing my scars, creating poetry…with all the hope I can still gather.

Little do they know,

That I would face them again, no matter how much they scare me,

And I would fight them, with no matter what it takes.

Little do they know, that I have promised to love myself,

And that was the bravest thing I could have done…