The Bent Handled Axe

A dark poem inspired by a vivid nightmare.

 

Everything is breaking

And everyone is faking

The thoughts and the feelings

That I can’t keep shaking

It’s the temptation

The relaxation

That I do need

To relieve complication

I just want to mend

Everything and send

My demons to hell

But they won’t bend

Maybe they’ll know

When I choose to show

What they’ve been doing

They’ll reap what they sow

My idols are falling

Screaming and calling

Begging for help

As the demons come mauling

I try to find

That which will bind

They’re troubles and end

The pain stricken mind

I find the axe

It will fix the lax

That I’ve been known for

Away at the demons, it hacks

But in the distance

I see a resistance

My mortality beckons

And threatens my existence

I hide from the reaper

And run into the keeper

Of my worst nightmares

And drive the blade deeper

I change it for the good

And promise that I would

Destroy all my demons

Just like I should