What to do, What's to ensueA Poem by SilverHehe... I had fun with this one... Enjoy!
When people are close to death,
They say their waking hours are numbered. But for me, my sleep is torturous, Making my life encumbered. My demons haunt my dreams, My angels my waking life, Me and my horrible dreams Are in a huge strife. Ideas, plans, Constantly in my ear, Worse that what Darko Ever had to hear. I don't what They want to ensue, So lack of torturous sleep Is what I pursue. Their elongated fingers Dangle over my brain, And trying to fight them Is quite a strain. And no matter what I do, No matter what I try, These awful monsters Just don't give up and die! One therapist had an idea, An idea that couldn't possible be; She suggested that those demons Were actually ME. Then she wanted me In a psychiatric ward, At that I left And slammed the door. After that, I didn't see anyone. With therapists, I was done. Still, my sleep was horrible, An endless, bloodless battle, I began to cave in, And the whispers became prattle. The darkness and evil That rested in their eyes Now stain the pretty blue skies. The fire that burns Deep in their heart, Now burns in mine, And I cannot part. I look down And see their scaly skin, And realized she was right! I should be in the bin. But it's too late now, The murder in my heart release, Ready for me to use Whenever I please.
© 2017 SilverAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorSilverTacoma, WAAboutI like to make people feel things, which is why I write slightly(or more than) depressing things. But if I leave the reader with emotions, and thoughts they didn't have before, my goal is complete. more..Writing
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