by Westley Nash
A sadistic demon stalks me in my sleepless nights.
Invading me with infantile dreams and jaded, hollow insights.
I can hear it in the distance roaring like the stormy seas.
Then hits like a tidal wave, ripping the breath right out of me!
The gauges climb to red and my world begins to fester,
so I cleave into my flesh to relieve the growing pressure!
Embracing a driven solitude I walk proudly among those ghosts,
who tell stories of a tired heart that once gladly played as host.
To excitement and desire, shining bright for all to see!
Drawing pictures of a future, predicting fruit upon the trees.
Sealed within a fantasy, the visions take life once more.
But always ashes unto dust, sunlight tearing through their core...
Unarmed and undefended, a victim of self-oppression.
Drifting stolidly through distractions and the many faceless processions.
Sentences trigger with ease but with no spoken application,
so the mind is held as prisoner by a verbal amputation.
With untamed raw emotion buried deep in a shallow grave,
this animated statue is barely weathering the day...