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The Dark Poem

Sperm-drench’d balls of flesh
Floating in a fevered mire
Of thought.
The flotsam of a nightmare.
A pool of fright

Surrounded by jungles of doubt.
The darkness of lust
The brightness of destruction
The vomitus of a crazed mind
Driven to the edge

Teetering on the brink
Of an eternity
of nothingness

Darkness regurgitated
What was once light
Or was thought to be.
A sickly light,
The pallor of a rotting corpse.
The fever passes

Out comes the sun.

The Light returns.
The storms of doubt and fear,
turn into gentle healing breezes.
The mind clears
And all is well.

But the pause
Is but momentary.

The relapse is worse
it cripples.
The storms return,
The ghosts of yesterday
their defeat.
Demons go wild
In the mind
Crazed again.
As the fever strikes
And all tethers break.
The line is crossed
The Breaking Point has come
What soothed yesterday
terrifies today
Yesterday’s balm
is poison today

Love, hate
Lust, greed
Deceit, sorrow
Truth, falsehood
All become one

And the fire is quenched
The mind ceases.