A Haunting

That which haunts us most, comes from within.

 

In my dreams I observe my past

The pain received, the pain past on

A like of fire calls my name

I am spawn of demon’s wrath

 

A twisted cage of tangled web

A bed of nails by mine own hand

I walk the line of razor’s edge

Peace of mind slips through my fingers

 

Forgive and forget, unattainable harmony

In my path lies guilt and reprimand

Walls torn down and built back again

A labyrinth with no end

 

Fingers bleed, broken nails

No escape from torments grasp

Dues to pay, with no currency

A wrecked soul amid this world and the next

 

Alone I walk amongst the broken

Seeking questions to answers unveiled

Weakened by the answers

I close myself from within

 

A cry for help, one last chance

Judge me not for things long past

Open my eyes and let me see

A new dawn, a new day, a new existence

Reviews

[Angelic Darkness]

This is a great poem. It reminds me of someone looking at the past, learning by
past mistakes, pains, yet looking into the future for hope and guidance.

Your word play here is wonderful, and very expressive.
Images deep and alluring. Great job! AD