Behind the half remembered word,
The monster lies in wait.
He sucks your strength, he slurs your speech
And leaves you to your fate.
He lurks in dark confusion.
He waits, a patient shade,
Delighting in delusion,
And making you afraid.
He sucks away your life force.
He numbs your will to fight.
He steals your words as they are born,
And then he steals the light.
This dark and dank obscenity
Is warring with your soul,
Nibbling at your dignity,
A grey and faceless hole.
Oh please give me the strength to face
This demon, dire and dread,
To embrace and sooth his decaying form,
To give him peace instead.
© JoAnn Layton,
2001 |
