Dry Spell

[kev_bot]

the leaves are returning
the changing tide
it feels like the demon
inside me has died

it perished so gently
without a sound
after years of me trying
to force it underground

now there’s the terror
that it’ll come back
it feeds on my weakness
uses stealth to attack

in the dark quiet moments
when I’m all alone
it eats at my sanity
and my need to atone

fighting’s so hard
and the long run seems far
feeling wrong but so good
underneath all the scars

stay buried forever
so I wont have to see
my dead eyes in the mirror
and this hell inside me