The demons of our past stand naked,
Running free through the fields of our mind.
And we hide, we hide from ourselves,
This past which cannot be denied.
The ranger passes through, singing,
And the mist does slowly disappear.
Yet the demons go on cowering,
In these songs we hold so dear.
Raging through the wild dust storms,
These demons bring naught but strife.
Lurking, waiting, to pounce upon us,
As we go about trying to live this short life.
The rain pours, and the willow whispers,
Yet all that can be heard are the voices.
These demons, always screaming in the head,
Of the past, and once made choices.
Exhaustion seeps into the mind so silently,
Exacerbating the insanity within these thoughts.
The demons feed with such power,
The battle seems lost even before it has been fought.
Somewhere along the paths of destruction,
Lie the shadows that evolve from the light.
And these demons striving so hard to kill from within us,
Too must die at the hands of the fading night.
I bow down to the demons,
For I was but a truant,
Waiting in the darkness,
Never stepping into the light.
And fellow bloggers and readers, I am back! I am just too much in love with writing to take a break. Glad the phase is over, glad that I could make up my mind.