There's a demon in my mind,
He goes to bed with me,
Waits for me to unwind,
And sets himself free.
He stomps around intently,
Wails and screams galore,
Something is wrong evidently,
So of course I must explore.
I'm told of all his fears,
We reminisce about his past,
I can barely hold back tears,
As I listen totally aghast.
I want to help him though,
So I let him lay on my chest,
And we share in his woe,
Ignoring the need for rest.
He feels a little better,
There's colour in his cheeks,
But mine have become much wetter,
As my eyes have developed leaks.
He offers me an embrace,
Which I cannot refuse,
His darkness engulfs my face,
And I drift back to muse.
I carry his problems for him,
Add them to my own,
'Til I'm filled to the brim,
But unable to moan.
He thanks me for my time,
And says he has to go,
As the birds start to chime,
And the moon is likewise low.
A sinking swallows me whole,
As I realise I'm alone,
Better be the darkest demonic coal,
Than to listen to myself moan.
I'm saved by the bell,
The lark is peering through,
The demon's back in hell,
No more time to rue.
I'll go about my day,
Forget the suffering of the night,
But fail to see a single ray,
Focusing only on that new blight.
I can hear the demon sleeping,
His problems have been lifted,
By my evenings weeping,
And my happiness gifted.
About the Creator
Wyn Vrielinck
Young, aspiring barrister trying to make some sense of a senseless world. Often found in London.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.