the demon lies in the abyss,
gaping maw open and silent,
heady breath that draws you to it
like the sweet perfumes of a long-forgotten moment.
you stand on the edge and look down,
you can't see the devil,
only the inky dark of the chasm.
and then it winks at you,
sees you, knows you by name,
and calls you to it.
some follow the call, some escape.
of those who follow, i know nothing,
but i escaped with cruel knowledge,
that the demon knows me,
and is lurking at the bottom of every abyss,
and i cannot be rid of it.
i can only stand firm on the surface,
and wink back into the darkness,
and walk away again.