It lives in the darkness; it feeds on despair.
Once ensconced in reason’s castle
It proclaims the brain its’ lair.
Subtle at first; then it grows more aggressive
Your memories are stolen and your words become guesses.
We cut burn and poison, but as yet there’s no cure.
A date with Death’s Angel is all but assured.
Pandora ’s Box unleashed on us a world of pain and fear.
Hope remains our lone defense for all that we hold dear.