When I was younger, I feared mirrors and darkness.
I feared the characters from horror films and the mutations they could harness.
I kept my head above the covers so I could witness my fated farewell.
Yet all I ever saw was the refute of my imagination’s creatures from hell.

We met during the race, and I slowed my pace to talk.
But running turned to walking, and we both reached a halt.
We regressed and recurred back to classical autonomy.
The Devil won this stretch, and I’m at a loss in my spiritual odyssey.

History repeated, and I suppose time should help.
But what’s to muffle the echoes that beset my mental health?
I lay with grimace, speechless and panicked, as I endured the price of your impulsive advancements.
I can’t help but think that this's all my own fault; but if you had asked, there could be boundless exalt.

Today I fear unwise men and fallen free will.
I fear characters from real life and the wickedness they instill.
I keep my chin up and turn the other cheek.
But when all is said and done, and after I’ve acquainted my agony, I must remind myself that I’m not just living for me.



Tuesday 12 November 2024