There's a darkness that comes
in which our demons play,
seeking out our fears
with no olly olly oxen free to save us
These serpentine beasts
sinuously slither
dragging our worries, qualms, anxieties with them.
What was tucked away safe
now flushed out
by their convoluted swirling paths
twisting our insides into knots
with their movements.
In our taciturn seclusion
we believe their lies
they devour our hope
a favorite succulent morsel of theirs
