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The Demon

17 - 05 - 16

By Wyn VrielinckPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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Within me there's a demon,

I do not know his name,

He never seems to go anywhere,

He never seems to change,

Quietly instead watching,

Waiting for the rain.

When the rain comes he dances,

Sings joyous songs of cheer,

Soars higher than the clouds,

Engulfing all that's around,

Until eventually he shall grow bored,

And plummet to the dirt.

Whence he shall return to wait,

And fill a loving heart with hate,

Pour darkness into a void of light,

Stamp out hope with all his might,

Return to his aforementioned way,

And once again ruin my day.

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

Wyn Vrielinck

Young, aspiring barrister trying to make some sense of a senseless world. Often found in London.

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