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hideaway
demons …
the beasts love feasts upon
tended like sheep by
character and good intention
their devious vigor
comes in their knowledge of the
souls they badger and vex
for that blood is of one coursing
one … metallic taste
there’s a dim corner, you see
a place of dark mysteries
we dare not visit,
but it’s always there -
a place of error, ill judgement
and thoughts unbidden …
we each create monsters there,
quite our own -
we mold their icy marrow
and bind their blackened bones
we drape a ragged flesh
dressed in the skin of our alter-ego
wounded, naked … and raw
we pretend that they’re not there
scratching our sensibility
yet they water our eyes with every regret
and dip our chin with falsehoods
human frailty, like manna …
but their true power - their hideous strength
comes in their perpetuity
for despite our best contrary efforts
they command the shadows and gloom
with the realization of their
frustrating, haunting …
dire …
immortality.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, March 23, 2024
Copyright ©
Gregory Richard Barden
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