Dark Nights, Even By Day

A poem of balance

Wendy S. Bradfield
Know Thyself, Heal Thyself

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Greco-Roman Death Mask, Photo by Author

The cloud cover comes
You succumb
Dark nights, even by day

Surrender or fight?
You bleed out either way
A lingering past

Demons and sprites
Gods and masks
You writhe despite your might

The past, the past
Dead and dying on the vine
At long, hard-won last

Your life is ever thine

The past is a sneaky snake. It creeps up on you the moment you hop off your unicorn.

Maybe it’s just me…nah, I don’t think so — it can’t be.

Still, there she stands. A devil in a red dress. A featherlight fairy whispering in your ear.

Your old self, dark self, feeding you lies about who you are and why you’re bound to fail.

You can’t run because she lives inside of you. She is you — or at least a version that appears when you feel vulnerable.

When change shows up to reveal a new layer of yourself, the temptation to stay the same is significant.

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Wendy S. Bradfield
Know Thyself, Heal Thyself

A cosmos-driven Egypt-based writer of broken dreams with a motivational flair. I write about love, life, and Egypt. Check me out at Egypteverafter.com