Liberation of the Psyche [POETRY]

Chapter 2: It

This poem is what inspired my novel, "The Cruel side of Hearts" you can find it on my profile

Follow the droplets of blood on the floor,

At the end of the hall, you'll see a brass door, 

Carved in the marble is your enemy's name,

They're playing with you quite a dangerous game.

It sits in the shadows, covered in words, 

Its head is on fire, its heart full of swords, 

Its eyes are pure lightning, watching you near, 

Its voice is the silent whimper you hear.

"What do you want?" you ask the flickering flame, 

The horrible creature whispers your name,

"I want your creation" it spells out all last, 

Observing the trembling shadow you cast.

"I don't understand" you call out again,

"How do you even know who I am?"

"It's simple, my friend" you're hearing it grin,

"Come listen closely 'fore my patience runs thin"

"I don't want your body, your name or your life, 

I'd take it from you if it were my type, 

What I need are the nightmares that eat you alive, 

Another comb added to the otherworld hive.

"I'm in need of your continence, and what makes you you, 

Your free will and colours, of every hue, 

I'll suck it all out until what's left is a shell, 

A greying disaster for the place you call hell"

Its showing its claws, and venom and teeth, 

You stand hypnotised and begin to weep, 

You look at its face just to see your own, 

The very same face that you've forever known.

You then stare directly into its eyes, 

And are hit with the truth devoid of all lies, 

You take one step forward, and it takes one nearer, 

You're standing alone in front of a mirror.

Spinning around you run for the door, 

"Just one more" you think "Just another step more"

But you can't outrun the darkness inside, 

Whatever you do there is nowhere to hide.

It consumes your brain and burns in your sight,

The rage taking over and making you blind, 

And your chest is stinging from the swords in your heart, 

And you bleed on the floor as words tear you apart, 

The darkness you feared has become your friend, 

Your home and your comfort, a means to an end, 

You carve out your name in the marble and ask, 

Is it worth all of this? What's the point of this task?

But no answer comes from the words in the stone, 

The brass door is locked, you're in the shadows alone.