denied inside

oh hark, rejoice - it’s back again a mem’ry of my who knows when to take my joy and twist it ‘round alluding all that might have been a small, dark place I can not go as dwells a ME I dare not know blind actions I can ne’er forgive but keep in dungeons far below a sad thing is, he’s always there and lives to feast on my despair foul scraps of all my errors, dire that by default, dress out his lair it’s true he wears a face my own but his vile visage turns to stone the demons of the worst device to leave no flesh upon their bone I strive each hour to quite ignore his bloodied shadow on my floor but tho I’ll not acknowledge him he’ll wait and seize what I abhor … the garlands I wear … nevermore. Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, February 26, 2024