Angels and demons have fought inside my warring mind,
Battling between light and shadows in a penumbral bind.
Coruscating clashes of such a photon fury,
Divided myself into two, one calm, one worried.
Eight long years since I've tried to escape,
From astral beings arriving in emotional shape.
Gagged by this battle between light and dark,
How could I not snap in myself's bending arch?
If I might find the chance to recover,
Just mend the battle wounds, I might discover,
Killing the self is neither the answer nor way to,
Lose the chains of memory's traumas of truths untrue.
Maybe if I will myself to look forward,
Never again shall I battle what's backward.
Open my mind, oh universe, to hope yet again,
Please spare me of the sorrow and apathy I've been.
Quiet the demons of whatever negativity remains,
Resisting my will while holding me in pathetic pain.
Someday I will recover from these wounds,
Time shall heal with passing suns and moons.
Under the starlit canopy of the parchment sky above,
Veneers of viridian and vermillion views I'll learn to love.
When the age of depression shall be a prepubescent time when,
Xenophobic fears and self-destructive thoughts shan't ever be again.
Yes I shall recover from the battles between an angel and demon,
Zen shall then surface in a lucid and languid life of hopeful dreaming.
Copyright © Brendan J. Simons | Year Posted 2017