Images flash with disjointed precision,
flickering like a candle set near a drafty window,
my soul screams for release –
being tortured with fantasy,
taunted by ghostly rhetoric.
Unanswered, the challenge is sounded
in the depth of my mind –
subconscious claims victory and
conquers with ease, leaving a
trail of wishful thinking and deadly secrets –
found hiding beneath a careful guise,
cleverly spoken words that reveal
nothing of their clandestine identity.
All of this laid bare, as the roots of
a tree after the passing of a torrid storm,
tender, savage, unrestrained –
primal in need and unrelenting in power,
they seek to overcome carefully
constructed walls –
meant to keep the evil at bay.
But easily the bricks crumble,
shattered like glass beneath the swing
of a more than ample hammer,
and “they” pour out of the dark –
feeding themselves on my fears,
gorging on frustrations,
consuming my passions…
until I am left berift and helpless to their task –
these are my demons, my judges –
and if I look hard enough,
between tightly shut eyes –
dancing with delicate grace –
you’re there too .