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Aug 2020
Echoes of voices, resound throughout my head,
Ceaseless and never ending, they cry out,
Joyously malicious, their evil roots they spread.

Formless and corrupt, unable to be pinned down,
Ethereal, without origin, that I cannot remember,
Whispers, they turn my heart, in their words I drown.

The freezing cold, the biting frost of memories of the past,
The scorching heat of anger burns upon my cheeks,
I stand against the tide for control that will not last.

Wisps of dreams and ghosts they seem to forever knock upon my door,
My courage is fleeting, moving forward and meeting their endless siren call.
A short poem about the effect memory and thoughts can have on mood and depression.
Over thinking can be dangerous and cause your brain to become an echo chamber of negativity, magnifying and creating problems.
We always move forward with a shadow behind us.
Written by
Benjamin  27/M/UK
(27/M/UK)   
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