Brighter Images
The weakest centre of my mind
Wearing a mask, but what to hide?
Angels descending on my truth
I related to demons to kill my youth
Although this child forgot his soul
His search for a reason had granted hope
He now tries to cast aside those spells
The rivers of poison that could not quell
This patient crying to be free
The nurse gives him drugs to make him sleep
The more he wakes the less he knows
Shaking off feelings that won’t let go
Half-thought collectives and reprise
The universe is, but what is time?
These rooms appear to be the same
Except for the faces beneath the child’s frame
I wake to throw away that mask
Nursing my fears is not my task
Not weakness when I can still see
The stories that justify a brighter me
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