"Hell is empty and
all the devils are here."William Shakespeare
as one human on this Earth,
the softness inside of my soul,
reaches deep down until it stops with a halt.it's now shaking,
fear coursing though the softness,
because from the dark,
emerges a demon from inside that attacks.with the spirit of Ares,
and the features of hell itself,
it reaches over and crushes the softness,
turning it into tiny fragments that now break my soul.the demon from inside now spreads,
like a disease,
causing the blood from my veins to pulse,
and rage rains down on me.the softness from inside screeches for rescue,
but it drowns along with the pain,
making my tears,
turn into dripping piles of blood."the devil has arrived" they all say,
and hell has no longer purpose,
for it has now opened it's doors,
letting it's fire burn my insides.i am a human on Earth.
the devil is a human in Hell.
my soul,
is an abomination,
for the softness inside,
has passed in vain,
and has no longer tooken one breath,
from the light that exceeds the dark.turn it on.
turn on that light that's screeching for rescue.
save it from death,
for it will live to see the day when you find the atmosphere still,
exhileration overlapping your skin,
making the world as soft as it could ever be.
YOU ARE READING
𝐝𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬
Poetry𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒐𝒆𝒎𝒔. 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒆𝒙𝒊𝒔𝒕. 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕. 𝒕𝒘: 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉, 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒌.