The glass shattered with the echoes of my silent memories
Beneath my feet the pieces imitate my inner most uncertainties
My tainted reflection from the fragmented glass pierces me.
The devil plays games with my incessant doubts
He laughs at the fear I feel inside, ignoring my constant shouts
He shows his face as I revel in tumult, stalking . . . prowling . . . pursuing me.
I ran away, seeking a measure of solitude and safety
This never-ending game of hide and seek is one that I wait to lose.
His grin rasps the lining of the depths of my soul
His humour entails perceiving me as a useless rag doll
I lie there, lifeless, waiting to be tossed around, used and abused by the one that possesses me
He has intensified my faults, revealing the tears of my world
As they pool on the ground, drowning me in fallacy.
Like the thorns of a rose, my silent hate conceals my sensitive soul, mauled away.
My paralysis leads to a deficiency of my tears
I no longer know of happiness - only my fears
He rose - insignificant, small, truncated
But he left having consumed all of me.
The devil - the evil within me that encapsulates the benevolence
Yearning for return . . .
But I have already succumb to his weight and power.
He slammed the door on the illusions I unknowingly created -
Incarcerated.
This never-ending game of hide and seek is one that I wait to lose.
His grin rasps the lining of the depths of my soul
His humour entails perceiving me as a useless rag doll
I lie there, lifeless, waiting to be tossed around, used and abused by the one that possesses me
He has intensified my faults, revealing the tears of my world
As they pool on the ground, drowning me in fallacy.
Like the thorns of a rose, my silent hate conceals my sensitive soul, mauled away.
My paralysis leads to a deficiency of my tears
I no longer know of happiness - only my fears
He rose - insignificant, small, truncated
But he left having consumed all of me.
The devil - the evil within me that encapsulates the benevolence
Yearning for return . . .
But I have already succumb to his weight and power.
He slammed the door on the illusions I unknowingly created -
Incarcerated.
A.G. Kolloori & B. Branthwaite
October 2010
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