Words From Within
I pour out my soul, as I sit here and write; my heart bleeds out on paper, cocooned in the night.
I write about pain, and torment and strife; I let the words flow, as I live out my life.
The darkness inside, is a demon with claws; he is buried down deep, and surrounded by walls.
My memories it haunts, as it feeds on my soul; dragging me deeper, to the pit of this hole.
Forever I’m lost, with no way to be free; this tomb is my home, for eternity I see.
I breathe in the air, that’s stagnant and foul; trapped with the corpse’s, that rot in this bowel.
The screams that you hear, from the abyss of my core; are me searching in vain, from a place with no door.
The torment of life, is always kept fresh; it has chained me to death, as it rips off my flesh.
I’ve tried to escape, this place that I dwell; they keep bringing me back, for this internment in Hell.
Try as I may, to find my way out; I’m consumed by my fear, and surrounded by doubt.
The Devil himself, has welcomed me home; stripped me of will, in this fire to roam.
The defeat that I feel, is not a new one for me; it continues to boil, no matter my plea.
I fight and I struggle, cause I’m not ready to go; I ask myself why, but I really don’t know.
Darkness is said, to be the absence of light; which is easy to see, as I sit in the night.
If that is the case, as I sit on this slope; then the feeling of death, is the absence of hope.
By Ron Lee