A sad, uncertain someone
Came to see me in my dreams.
He said he comes here often;
Sits and listens to my screams...
I said to him, "Unwelcome friend,
You claim to know me well,
But have you any wish to end
My misery, my hell?"
He said to me, "Why yessirree,
But where must I begin?"
Well, this question got me reeling,
Thinking thoughts best left untold.
I was burdened by the feeling
That his smile was one of old...
I cringed at pain I'd hoped I'd left
Unknown, for I'd convinced me sane,
But knowing this I was bereft
And knew my demons were to blame...
My wish was simply cage them;
Let them romp and roam by night,
But this wish, it more enraged them,
And my thoughts knew only fright...
This memory was the first I knew;
They babysat me from the first.
Each year, each demon grew and grew,
And as I grew, they grew much worse...
I sought help in every way I could,
But demons know few bounds.
I did what any mortal would,
And this is what I found...
The boundaries that we humans face
Can make us weak or strong.
We know just where and in what place
We'll go, and still do wrong...
Daytime, with its cloudless skies,
Or nighttime, when the moon is full,
They play, until the weaker cry,
Our minds, our demons' greatest tool...
I looked into my guest's black eyes
And saw the ancient gleam,
As many men must have, but I
Am stronger than I seem...
I said to him, "I guess it's you,
Who engineered my hell."
I hated him and this is true,
While treating him quite well...
He grinned the grin of ancient sin;
He'd wished my spirit broken.
Though I'd a small surprise for him:
A prayer I'd not yet spoken...
I prayed as I'd not done before;
I'd not lived as I should.
Still, as my demon did implore
Me cease, I knew it doing good...
He cried and cringed, but grinned once more,
Said, "I'll be back", and vanished as
I felt my soul warm to its core,
But knew he watched me, always has...
My demons still knew me quite well.
I prayed away, but I'm no fool,
They haunt me still in my own hell-
My mind is still their greatest tool...
About the Creator
Luke Haymons
“Everyday courage has few witnesses. But yours is no less noble because no drum beats for you and no crowds shout your name.”
― Robert Louis Stevenson


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