My Own Foe Haunts

Behind the curtain of death,
leaves no time to focus
on unknown traces of darkness

Cataclysm like quicksand,
wants to swallow me alive

Someone or something trys to
steal my every breath
Its sting invades the mind,
threatened to never again exist;
pushes me to fight to live as a
worm cut in half squirms to cheat death

Tasteless, invicible in reality,
images of times I have escaped death;
stalks in flashbacks

Haunts to remind me

Having a will to stay on
my safe side; no fear

A blink of the eyes and
perspective illusions return
to the equillibrium,

to plot my next death.

By. Vanessa Ramos