Haunted by the Inner Demon

I believed I did, but then the demon inside my head

Reached out, put itself in control, and ropped

Off that person, became an aged faded portrait,

One I admired, absorbed it’s brilliance and vivid emotion,

Then the demon, that stalks in plain open consciousness,

Rattled my head, shifted the entire frame into dust,

I’m trapped, inside my own, in the entangling web

That laps over and over, burying my gated clarity,

The more I struggle, the louder it becomes, deafening

Where I just give in, fold down, within it’s cold grasp

That has eclipsed, the beauty of truth, now lying in mud,

All because, I validated the demon’s spun filth

That slithers through my canal, injecting deceit

Into my malleable mind, I never stood a chance

Against my demon, who has become apart of my persona,

So much so, I can’t distinguish the difference between us,

I might have found my home, but they’ve vanished

Into the furthest lot, while I struggle with the lock,

They’re still there, before me, reaching for the compass,

Following the illusion before them, while I lay buried

In the forgotten sands, pushed further down,

Suffocating the inkling of hope, where is that home

That can calm the storm with her touch, upon the nape

Of my feeble stance, for her scent, softly lingers,

As I look for the silver lining, hoping she’s there, smiling.

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Mirror, Mirror

I’m consumed by the wreckage
In it’s reflection, tarnished,
From my rooted hold, over many laps
Of lives around me, I live with
Knowledge, to which I stare far into,
Dried on years and cracks, overrun
As I glaze back into the handheld void,
Imprisoned in my own grasp, holding on
To what looks back, showing the disgust
Of what I am now, from what I’ve done,
Cursed in the nightmare that stalls
My death, my escape from this skin,
I’ve corrupted the dirty,
Spun the weak webbed bridge
For it only to collapse, in the sway
From my sigh, repeating in vivid picture
Where I sit, holding my damnation,
Dry desert plains blanket my face,
Cracks, swallowing the men, who’s
Legs, I’ve broken into staying,
Now dread my sweet siren song,
For my past is projected
By the mirror, clasped firmly by me,
It has become my enemy, Demon
Crested, and worn
In my tormented hypnosis.

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©DorianPoe 2015

Beyond the Surface

Her fear resides in arms
Silencing her vibrancy in the cold
Still wind that burns through her,
An eclipsed hell she drowns in,
When he leaves her, chained
To the floor of their bed,
Buried, in his possession, he holds
Her in the snap of his finger,
A marionette sitting blankly on his lap,
She lives in absence, running away
Only in her hollowed mind, with no light
At the end of a boundless gorge.

A curious cat pries in, through
Shackled gates of the domain where
Torment, houses its victim,
Drawn in by her cavernous cries
Displayed, in elegant frames along
The walls of this eternal chasm, 
The cat nears the clasped horror
That bends the bones of the bellowing
Louder, stiffening, the cat’s cautious Approach as the shadows crash
Against the cat’s terrified expression,
Feeling the impact of clash to flesh
Reverberate through its chilled soul,
It’s heavy breath, fogging up
The colliding torrent engulfing the cat
Who finds the abused,
And the devil, within her
Carving into her, branding her as he
Rips out the light from under her grasp,
This horror, seen by the frightened cat
Scared white, and found elusive
In it’s own noose, as the crucified one
Still lies back, letting the demon
Have his way with her.

©DorianPoe 2015