The Demons Voice

These things, these demons, cannot be predicted for it is not the province of the vain to view forthcoming perils as their own race past life’s looming cautions with disdain Destined by their folly to abstain ignore precursors of life’s coming woes for youth, t’is said, “is wasted on the young” age, alas, left struggling in its throes. Surrounded by the gators of their swamp beseeching of dead gods that it be drained remain addicted to the demons slain youth seeking death before old ages reign. Destined, as it were, by dint of choice destined to succumb to demons voice. ©9/19/2019 Eight Word Challenge Poetry Contest Emile Pinet - sponsor