Sciamachy

I guess I’ve always been afaird of the dark,

The shadows that seemed so daunting.

Almost as if something could leap out from any moment,

Without knowing what they were wanting.

 

While others are afaird of what’s in the dark,

I already know that part.

It’s where the ghouls and goblins of my own mind lay,

Wishing to tear me apart.

 

The only light I possess is the one inside,

I hold it close to my chest and wish for the best.

Still, they laugh and they whisper,

Feeling nothing but compressed from the stress.

 

Using the word Nyctophobia isn’t enough.

I’m not terrified or scared,

It’s more of horrified of the person I could become.

I used to think not many wouldn’t care.

 

My mind would never let me out of that prison,

The one made from lost hope,

To which the dark could point and others would stare.

 

I never knew how to cope,

With the things in my head.

My fear overtook me,

As I used to think I was better off dead.

 

The fear didn’t reside with the dark,

No, it was the fact the dark existed within me.

Appecting my own defeat so I could finally breathe,

I knew I could never be carefree but that was what I need.

 

Seeking for a way to walk this deserted halls,

Trying to find a flashlight.

Limping and exhausted,

Giving in to the only door left in this hell life.

 

Discovering the others with monsters under their beds,

Or fishes that swam in and out their ears.

Fireflies who lit a way for others,

Now knowing that I’m not as different from my peers.

 

As the ghouls and goblins who snickered from the cobwebs,

Knew their place in my head.

My own fear of being indifferent,

Or after being misread,

Now fled.

 

I knew the truth in my Shadows,

That they made me who I was.

Not many can say they see it that way,

Well, keep in mind that you aren’t the cause.

 

Each person has a choice,

To let their fear define them.

Or let their fear defeat them.

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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