Writing

demons

Pulling with icy fingers at his heart
They crept into his soul

Against his better judgment
He stepped into their den

And lost his way

He thought that he was strong
Strong enough to leave

But human strength is simply not enough

They mesmerize you with their skills
Of pleasures unimagined
Like so many orgasms of both body and mind

They keep you with an ever decreasing pulsation
Of frenzied bliss
A warm and secure illusion
Like the feeling that only a true lover
Can give when you embrace

They secure your loyalty
As you mortgage your soul
For the bittersweet golden token 
Of a life 
Lost in a void
To be realized never again

He could not save himself
He hadn’t the power
Others may have tried
But it was his internal battle

And he hadn’t the will to live
Left in him to fight
His very essence
Had been sucked out
The way a fiend might
Exsanguinate
Siphoning the life from a victim
Leaving only a
Fragile, hollow exoskeleton
Which will merely waste to dust
Without a living creature to inhabit it

A zombie is what he became
A slave to these inner demons
In bad faith he had lived 
And in a sick lie 
He has met his pathetic demise

To cease to feel, create, to will
An empty vessel
Devoid of the human spirit
Without the drive to stand on his own
Succumbing
To the searing fires 
Of a personal hell
His last creation
Ironically
As he walks 
Hand in hand
With the demons he hath made

I wrote this long time for a friend who lost his battle with mental illness after it led to addiction and I’m sorry to say that it’s not just for Jack anymore but also for Dale, Matt and Richie, who will all be in our hearts forever.

Leave a Reply