It comes in the silence of doubt.
Ever watching, ever waiting
For the the day it will spring,
A cunning type of thing.
It leaves me wondering about
The heckling; the way of things
My strength is weakening,
The bad thoughts start to cling.
It's coming, but I can't run out.
I'm listening; can't stop shaking.
As the dark spreads its wings,
The shadows start to sing.
It leers close with a wicked shout.
Heart beating, mind screaming, flailing.
An evil prevailing,
Everything is failing-
Help me.
YOU ARE READING
Inner Workings
PoetryWelcome one, welcome all To the story that unfolds. But beware with this call- Good writing, this may not hold. As I share all my thoughts Of a recluse of a mind Let the words overcome you And please, enjoy the ride.
