Tis the witching hour and I am once again locked in a battle with you, my old foe.

My love lies sleeping, unaware of the fight raging around him, and I wish it to remain so.

What has it been?  Ten years now that we fight, and each year you gain a little more ground.

You have stolen bits of my life over time, some of my joy, returning to me pain and darkness, trying to keep me down.

My face and body look young still, but it is my soul that bears the scars of our war.  You do not fight fair.

The weapon you wield most often, pain, comes and goes and the sneak attacks you use with flair.

But your ultimate weapon, The Darkness, has done the most damage and I fear it is that one thing that will allow you to win.

When The Darkness has me in his evil grip, I have no strength with which to fight the pain or his dark assault and life is at its most grim.

I long for the brief periods of time when the pain is only a dull ache and I can pretend I am again well.

But too quickly, too fast, you pounce again and we return to our war and my life, again, is hell.

One weapon I have against you is to write you out on paper.  Some may see it as complaining.

I say let them come join me in my war for one battle.  See how Pain and Darkness over my life are reigning.

Yes, Tis the witching hour and the skies dark and stormy. Your preferred time and weather for attack.

Well enemy mine, I’m awake and writing, trying hard to attack you right back.

I know who will be the ultimate winner in our war of pain, darkness and fright.

But tonight, you won’t win this battle, old foe.  I’m writing you out of my night.