Demons on the Brow

Lengthy nights come on after the other
like static in the airwaves
not one change in the wind
as the wind outside my room stirs
and spins
and twists
with the storm
inside my mind.
Neither can be separated.
Not even the room or my skull
create a boundary thick enough.
The demons tied me up
and slowly started skinning
conjuring thoughts that never existed
from my sweet memories they find
along with the stressful nightmares.

It's at night when that looming darkness
creeps and pounces upon my soul
after checking that the coast is clear
that no one is there to prevent me from
screaming
pulling my hair
crying
pleading
killing my poor innocence.
no one there to hold me
until my lips can barely utter one silent prayer.

They crouch around me
with all my dead birds hanging by their tail feathers.
they drop each one
plopping them onto the electrical wire.
They bring back the accepted dead
the things that never really mattered
due to my naive age back then
bring back my already-sloved rubicks cube
in a most nasty mess
and like the wire
each little bird hangs - unable to fly
drooping my brow
pressing my eyes to tears
releasing the corners of my lips
into a frowning parachute
searching for a place to land
somewhere
where death of my mind
is not inevitable.

The demons
The demons
trying to dig a hole to my head
and drain my brain.
They have no purpose
other than to drag my down
destroy me.

I just want to sleep
rest in comfort of safety.
I don't want to raise a war
don't want to kindle the fight.

I just want the sun to rise.

slick as oil
oily as the world.

the thoughts can drown me
drown me in the very oil
creating those evil spirits
slipping into my ears
and I can't close my eyes
I only find more darkness
so they stay glued to position
looking for the faintest light
to save my sleep.

and by sometime my body surrenders
I find myself waking up
feeling fine, but refusing the night.

Don't force the poison down my throat
that makes me spit out disgusting lies
that scare me of my friends
and make me hate misery more.

It's all in the demons
No matter how the days go
They'll still hate me
and they find their way in
when I can't sleep at night.

I want to see your hand.

They know what they know
They know what I know
And I got so close they'll do anything
To strip me of my worth.

Oh Father, hear me now.
'Tis eventide.