A poem that spoke suddenly and from an inner place

I am trying to see clearly through the demons in my eyes
the ones that pass through tears when I remember how to cry
They block the things of beauty and make them strange and cold and dark
They want to send a message, to make an evil spark.

I can hear their voices through the breathing of the wind
so rhythmic and eerie, like a top they make me spin
from one shadow to another to avoid the outer light
they feed upon my anger and my pulsing, potent fright.

I can only see so much beyond the demons in my eyes
those tiny little spies, across my pupils they pass by
and when I see their faces crawl across my vision here
It is always very difficult to ignore insistent fear.

The others don't believe me, they think its all inside my mind
perhaps could be right, but will I ever find
the reason for these phantoms and their awful presence now?
or perhaps a way to stop them. I need to know just how.

If they are truly here inside the fluids of my eye
the ones that flood on out whenever tears need to be cried
how did they get here and when will they go away?
Surely spirits in brightening shadow will not feel a need to stay
for I am not a dark thing like those tiny little beings
I appreciate the beauty and the birdsong and the wings
They will never consume me even though they always try
I no longer let them reach inside me; I tell them goodbye.

The End

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