If ever a wind could cool the night,
as the dark, in stillness lay,
If words could warm the heart of man,
it would make more sense to pray.
But standing from this vantage,
or crawling along at best –
I greet my demons full of faith,
that fear tonight, steals rest.
They dance with me until I resist,
then great becomes the war,
They won’t release, I try to escape,
but I can’t get off the floor.
Surely there is a choice to make,
and clarity I seek –
then reality punches hard again,
and I turn away my cheek.
Nipping at my heels,
the ticking of the time,
while others have great plans for me,
this choice is only mine.