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Demons
Written by Sean on Sunday, April 17, 2005
A bit of a poem I wrote
Mexico, a bought for doctor.
New York City, an unscrupulous thug.
Meeting with a two by four.
Ending life as I know it.
Going to bed, hoping to awake changed.
Leaden blanket wrapping me
Paralysis of emotions, as effective as of limbs
Nowhere to go, somber mood.
Escape, run away, move, nothing works.
Run from myself, I cannot.
Leaden blanket, too thick to fight.
Can’t tell what’s behind.
Demons wearing masks,
All too familiar, non-identified monsters.
Pick, pick, pick, pick, drag me down.
Solid noose, the more you fight, the tighter it’ll go.
Pas de répit, sans cesse, je m’enfonce,
Just like white waters, a maelstrom.
Strengths greater than I.
Unbearable burden, end it there, try the forbidden apple.
Just one more escape, essais futile.
But! This one could be the right one…
Love, a floatation device amid the surf
Life saver, life preserver. At times,
even it can’t float me through.
Un-named fears, masked skeleton, clicketing, racketing, far too noisy, too far from the closet.
My mind, padded cell for howling demons,kept in check by remnants of sanity.
Ca fait mal. Quoi?
Hurts even more to realize ignorance.
Ludicrous, n’est-ce pas?
A tear, asked for and refused.
Get a grip, get a grip, jump start yourself, man.
Go to sleep, wake up, still the same, harsh reality.
It won’t.
Go.
Away!
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