Demons
I have a demon within and I created him. I didn’t give it gin, yet spirits I absorbed sank with him. The bottomless pit of my stomach drank with vim. Leading a wave to speculations on other things. Homonculus and the various other sins. I think I hint at what I want to change whilst living the life of someone deranged. Or rather derailed and almost untimely frail. Paranoia and mind feels like an immaterial jail. Where all respect and credibility can easily fail. Hence I wail in on the self, as the confidence readily melts. To be met by the demon that belts a mans wealth. That upright stealth which masks emotion. Hosting a new form of health in pride. A Saiyan’s mind within a Human frame to hide the shame of living so lame. Refrain from chaining the self I asked. As if it was the demons realm in which I basked. Rumination is a form of smarts. Revealing the dark spots which block my path. At last I would say, that eternal fray ceased this day. At least, my beaming smile can glide into play.
