In The End
April 18, 2021
My demon and I,
an entangled duet.
Like the narcissistic puppeteer,
manipulating his marionette.
Tangled within these rage born strings,
to which I'm tethered my malevolence.
I drown in their anesthetic wake,
flooding numb, prevalence.
My life is an evolving game,
of Russian roulette.
In the end I become,
my demons silhouette.
0 snaps·0 views
View on Power Poetry →