One day while traversing in a far off land,
I happened upon a path in the road,
With no signs or direction it cut through the mountains,
And seemed to stretch into another world.
Walking along the basalt path,
I saw the world become a colorful plain,
Stretching and abounding in every which way,
I seemed to float on a river that was not even there.
And suddenly, I came across a great tree,
With a large snake a twain the branches,
And beneath in a shallow spring,
Were draped men with eyes red from crying, and faces dark for lack of sleep.
I approach the tree and humbly bow,
Drawing attention from the snake,
I hear a soft hiss near my ear asking,
“Why do you bow to me?”
I say: Good snake, I mean no harm,
I simply bow to avoid you biting me, and injecting your hateful poison,
For I am trespassing upon your land,
And only wish to be polite.
The snake laughed as only a snake can,
And leaned down to me,
“Young man you are welcome upon my land,
For you see these men are here by choice.
These men are here by choice and theirs alone,
And I shall not lie,
They begged for me to poison them,
Because misery is their new life.
My poison has rotted their brains to miserable husks,
And now they relax and wallow oblivious here,
Thrown here by those they did once trust.
I sit and watch them because I am curious to know.
I am curious to see if they simply forget where they are,
Let go of the side and fall into the pool and die?
Or if they will give in to my poison,
And keel over and die?
However none of them have let go yet,
For as miserable as they are they know they are not alone in this pool,
Even though they do not feel it they know there are others here,
And misery is company best served.”
I continued along until I saw two shapes in the distance,
As I neared I saw what seemed to a large stone,
And the other, from the look of the shadow,
A needle.
When I approached I saw two things at an impasse.
What I first mistook as a stone was a large cloak,
That was in fact occupied,
But by whom I could not see.
The other was simply a mirror,
A plain old mirror,
With I humbly took time to admire,
My own visage.
To which I said Good Morning,
And I was echoed in reply,
And to my surprise,
Whoever was in the cloak spoke as well.
“ Do not look into the mirror,
Do not speak, or it will speak back to you,
And with every word you say, it will twist and repeat,
Until you no longer know, if the mirror is you or if you are the mirror.”
I then turned to look at the piece of glass,
And it seemed to explode before my eyes,
Until it became a plethora of eyes, eyes that were mine,
And within each one I could see a malice and hatred that was beyond my design.
This creature then, I ventured to my quiet companion,
Why is it here?
“It is here because it hopes that one day,
A man will come and in his loneliness begin conversing with it.
And while they converse and his loneliness is eased,
The creature will creep oh so silently,
Into his head, and will whisper,
All the dark things he has dreamed since he was made.
And he will whisper all day and night,
Until the man can no longer distinguish his own voices,
From the ones in his head.”
I suddenly became afraid and turned my back on the demonic glass.
So why are you here, I asked the cloaked man.
“I alone can keep this beast here,
Because I will never speak to it.
And as long as I am silent towards it, it can never conquer me.
You see, I am scared,
I am afraid of people; I find them difficult to trust,
And what they may do to me worries me so,
Just talking to you now, is making my hands shake.
So silent and afraid of people I may be,
By sitting here I hope that I may do the world some good yet,
Do not weep for me; I am lonely, yes,
But I can only believe, that it is better to be alone and hale, than among others and hurt.”
I tried to offer the poor man, a sign of my appreciation,
But he shied away from my hand,
And not to seem rude, but when I looked back at the mirror,
I ran as fast as my legs would carry me.
I then came, to a sea of tall wheat,
A field, a beautiful field,
Endless it stretched beyond my eyes,
And seemed to meet the horizon.
As I was walking through the grass,
Almost lost in a trance in the summer sky,
I saw a glorious sight.
A man dancing through the grass.
His face was shining with a smile I so rarely see,
And his features were more than a man, an Olympian was he,
He leaped and laughed, and sang aloud,
As the wheat erupted in sweet smelling smoke, from the fire that alit were he fell.
I approached him,
Astounded by his glee,
And asked him of his fire,
And how such a phenomenon could be.
He hugged me, in such a tight embrace,
And roared with such laughter when he saw the surprise on my face,
“My friend, it is the summer and such a happy time!
I am alive; I am afire with the sun’s light!
And as the sun shines, so do I
But I must make the time last, from morning to night,
Because I am ever aware that with every moment passed,
Winter is sooner to grasping me yet.
And when winter comes,
My smiles will vanish with sun,
And my body will become frozen,
A black and tenebrous mess, for I will always be close to death.
But do not fret, for now, I am alive!
So let us dance, and sing
Drink and eat,
For no matter how time passes, the sun will always rise again.”
No matter how much fun it could have been,
My friend was sad I could not stay,
And so I walked on,
And found the ocean that has no name.
So I passed underneath all the magnificent waves,
And saw all the faces of people I loved forever,
As I drifted towards the horizon,
And passed between night and day.
Wrote this for a british literature class a few years ago, an experience poem. each of the demons is a mental illness
