Out of many demons that plague me,
There are three demons who manifest themselves everyday,
Everyday my mind slowly breaks a hard price to pay,
Ironclad chains bind me so I cannot be free,
A loop which entwines itself around myself and time,
Day by day my burdens weigh upon me as a if I committed a crime,
For everyday is a war with only the casualty of my own health,
For everyday is another twelve labors,
No matter how many times I try the last enemy is always the same: myself,
Now for the three demons,
The Three Acts of a drama that conflict my mind,
The first demon: the Exposition,
The demon that makes everything seem like a contradiction,
A song of madness; my rushing thoughts,
Devoid of control my head is a room of tangled knots.
Relentless and ruthless rough roads are the only paths that await,
1 2 3 4 how time in seconds move as millennia,
Break the desk, run out the room, save me from my final fate,
For an execution waits for me,
A guillotine before the golden gate,
Sanity shot down and left with a calamity,
For I look to only to see the darkness of humanity.
My senses focused a sniper upon a target,
While my mind astray a wandering soul lost in the night,
What if for some reason I lost my sight,
A lost soul to my void of my mind and thoughts.
The Exposition: The Act of Madness,
The Action: The Act of Sadness,
My depression and my aggression,
The two halves of a spear that seem to slices my hope,
Everyday a memory of my sins an everlasting confession,
The sadness and regret that comes with it in a land with only rain,
The poisonous drops hit me with excruciating pain.
To test my limits and drive me insane.
For even if I get out of the rain there is nothing to gain,
For the cycle repeats anew,
The storm will always brew,
And the cycle of sadness and hatred will begin once more.
The bloody battles of the malicious forces inside of me full of gore,
Drag me down to the depths in the water drowning me,
I somehow swim back up and act as if its a cup of tea,
To pretend the rain is confetti of joy,
To pretend I live in a world of games and toys,
To put a smile upon my face amidst the obscurity within,
To embrace the countless weight of burdens and endless barrage of arrows,
The third act the resolution,
The act in which I talk about the demon of greed which works a system of currency within,
A system in which I can never win,
“Goodmorning! You currently have 100 tokens!” said the voice inside my head.
“You want to get out of bed?
That would be 15 tokens that can not be refunded!” the voice said again.
I get out of bed knowing the time of the purchase; exactly when.
Time flies throughout the day the same purchases usually made at near the same time,
These same exact purchases and cycle makes many of my days rhyme,
At the end of the day on every weekday I hear the voice “So your down to 15 tokens!”
From then the only thing I feel is broken,
My mind walking the path of the damned,
To make the last purchases drain the last of the essence of effort out of me,
I drag myself to bed and finally feel free. But than I hear the voice one last time.
“You are currently out of tokens! Good luck tomorrow!”
I sigh before I close my eyes. “Great another day of sorrow.”
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“A song of madness; my rushing thoughts,
Devoid of control my head is a room of tangled knots.”
I love this line!