the wind blows through my
doors an empty sound as it
travels the rooms but no one
is home anymore.

The rooms were once full
thoughts did play, each room,
was past, present and thoughts
of a future it couldn't yet see.

This mind had many thoughts
rooms so full you  couldn't
move the so many rooms once
full of thoughts now only dust
as the room now deserted no
ideas to see any more.

Now there are just empty rooms
where the winds do blow, no
longer remembering past,
present the future bleak for a
mind with no thought. One
day the door will shut and
that will be the end of me no
thoughts anymore.

It spreads like an infection, the
pain, it comes and it goes, I put
on a smiling face but it gets
worse with each passing day.

It started in one place but
now it spreads, I am used
to pain but this is new as
it spreads down my legs.

Being shoved from pillar to
post, we cant help maybe
these can help, more time
to wait more time to spread.

As the pain claws at me,
temper flairs, I don't mean
to shout, but pain can make
you tired and shout at those
who love  and just care.

I wish to find and defeat this
pain, I just wish it would go
away and let me be. But
another appointment to go
to, more pain that claws its
way around me, a smiley face
I let everyone see ..

My inner voice speaks to
me to tell what is right the
devil on my shoulder
always trying to blind
my sight.

The voice telling me,
no asking what I think is
right. My person is my own
and the decision is mine
free will, using my emotions
knowing what is right.

The little me on my shoulder
dressing in black and white,
whispering evil nothings in
my ears to convert my thinking
to that which isn't right,

I have two voice,s telling things
I need  too do, but in the end it
is my voice I must listen to. I have
there advice, some times the shoulder
whispers win,and I feel guilty
for what I did. As weak to the
voice at that point knowing it
wasn't right to easily did I give in.

But I listen to the inner voice to
the rights it shows me, more often
than my shoulder demon who's
voice I bloke out not letting its
thoughts in.

It is my voice I need to listen to
advice is not a sin, but to give in
to the voices, to let my voice be
silenced I will never let this happen
neither voice would  win. They
are only voices and I am the decision
maker, to choose what is done, my
conscience will lead not the voices
within.

Caressing your neck with
my fingers,tighter the grip.
I feel your pulse as I hold
tight, I feel every beat of
your life, as it vibrates
through my finger tips.

I hold tight kissing, caressing
your throat with my lips,
I can taste you with each
one, your breathing deepens
as I lick you gently with my
tongue tip

I cant resist, I must do what
I was made for, as I bite deep
in to you I can taste your lust
as I drink deep, the beat slows
but you are caught in lust.

As your final breath exhales you
tasted sweet, as I leave you I
give you a final loving kiss as
now I can taste death on your
still warm lips.

In the grass you were hidden
from view, poison you did spit
to others about me, I didn't do
you wrong, but in the long grass
of friends you were obscured
from my view.

But your fangs you had got in
to others, lies were your venom,
untruths spread through the
minds of those you had bitten.
Was it some thing I had done,
but I thought what was it them
not me.

It wasn't just me you were jealous
of, for when the long grass was
cut the whispers bleed from its
roots, showing that you were biting
lies to others not just about me
but all of us.

When awake I am safe, they only
live in the darkness, only when
my eyes are closed, under my
eyelids they live, the horrors of
demons the faces seen, so I open
my eyes to hide them from my
darkened sight.

How long can eyes not close, to
stay open, to not shut these eyes
for more than a moment. The
horrors I see when sight sees
darkness, the things plague the
places always waiting I need
to never sleep.

My demons wait for me, waiting
for the dark place behind my eyes,
I am haunted by these things that
thrive in the darkness, can anyone
save me from the horror that claws
my eyes shut.

I scream when my eyes close shut,
the place they can play with my mind,
where there is no escape till my eyes
open, but for now they are closed shut.

Constantly craving the night with
it's darkness, and it's shadows.
The ability to steal away into the umbra
to be forgotten.
In the world of darkness secrets hide
is anybody home?
Does anyone see my shadow?
It cries for attention yet obscurity
is its salvation.
To be seen, is to be known.
I am not known, I am hidden in nightmares.
Blackness cloaks who and what I am.
Do you want to know who I am?
Yes?
I am the wickedness in your soul.