Black Poetry : The Demon

captflash

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Feb 26, 2002
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There’s a demon inside me he’s vicious and wise.
He sings me his songs he tells me his lies.
He swears this one drink I put to my lips
will give me forgiveness and peace so I sip.

The demon he laughs as I sip at that drink.
He’s happy, he’s nailed it, he knows how I think.
And now that’s my truth this first drink is a feast.
I sip it and feel its cold warmth, promised peace.

But it’s not really peace it’s the demon’s release.
Now he’s got me again, yes he’s back he’s complete.
Oh he knew how to bait me the lies I’ll believe.
And he snuffles then giggles --- He chokes, he can’t breathe.

But that’s me not the demon struggling for breath.
I’ve inhaled. Didn’t swallow. Burning chest. Hello death.
No, I’ve had only one I scream in my head.
Yet I’m gagging. I strangle --- My vomit runs red.

Callused fingers are cramping they’re claws made of bone.
And my legs while they’re shaking are turning to stone.
My breath just won’t come and I lie here alone.
I wonder how long it will take to go home.

The demon has won. Now his blackness comes near.
In the ebony light I know death but not fear.
I feel his hot breath hear his catcalls and jeers.
He barks scornful laughter --- As my eyes close he sneers.
 

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