Personal Demons

Personal Demons

The Creature before me is the image of I.
Dark and sad, my only truth, a lie.
I run from this thing that’s buried in my mind.
But you can’t run from terror if, to you soul, it’s bind.
I’ve tried to stop it, but to no avail.
It kills without mercy and it kills without fail.

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The hopes that I carried in my bosom of old,
Died on that day, by the evil so cold.
Staring back was my face, but not my blue eyes,
But a demon, a follower of the Lord of Flies.
It invaded my body, it invaded my will.
It’s destroying my mind, forcing me to kill.

It laughs at my horror at the atrocities I commit.
It revels in the blood of the victims I submit.
I’ve tried to stop it; I’ve tried to stop myself,
But souvenirs of my sacrifices continues to grow on my shelf.
The new one I hold belonged to a pretty, little girl.
Covered in fresh blood, a little ring made of pearl.

I hold the ring tightly as tears flow down my face.
The little girl packed tightly in a small wooden case.
I placed it with the other, on the tower stacked high.
A testament to my evil and the demon I can’t deny.
I despise myself and the beast that I had become.
Because of my weakness, to the demon I succumb.

But the last straw was the little girl I just killed.
Once innocent and sweet, her parts now vacuumed sealed.
Dissection was the choice of the killing for today.
The poor little girl screamed as I had my way.
I cut her apart slowly from her head to her clit.

My soul becomes damned, my action wouldn’t quit.

I cannot keep doing this I know it must end.
The bodies in a pile, the police closing in.
I wish they would find me and remove me from my pain.
To destroy the demon that resides within my brain.
I would plea to God if I thought he would listen,
But my soul is to far gone, forever lost in Damnation.

So I must end it myself, while the demon sleeps.
Suicide won’t matter; my lost soul’s gone to deep.
So I raise the shaver’s blade and press it against my temple.
One quick movement along my neck then it’ll be over…simple.
But my fingers fight me and my hand starts to shake.
Tears runs down my face as the demon begins to wake.

It know what I want, it knows what I’m trying.
I can feel it within, me, I can feel it fighting.
But I must be strong and not give in.
I hold the ring tight, if I fail, it’ll never end.
I can feel my will slipping as the demon starts to take hold.
My heart’s clenched, my blood turns ice cold.

But I maintain control, the demon roars in protest.
I WILL fight this thing which I deeply detest.
It’s trying to take over as things slowly goes black.
And the urge to kill grows and begs for an attack.
I shut my eyes and the cold blade bites.

Submitted November 14, 2018 at 09:44PM by krayhayft

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