Stoic


Ominous eyes stare into my veins from the shadowed corners,
Paralyzing my sere bones to stone.
Static and defenseless,
The voices start to crawl through the window,
tiptoeing into my ears
starting as a dull hush,
that's suddenly sent ablaze
igniting my mind with their vile desires.

As I manically scratch my head to abate the itch in my mind,
Their thirst for my agony grows,
And they soon become parched.
So they decide to burn my feeble cells
And the itch becomes a distant paradise

Haunting whispers of "You are nothing"
And echoes of sinister shrieks
Crumble the bleak walls,
And erode the ground.
But I refuse to fall with them.

My pale limbs may be frail,
But my mind is stoic.
And I begin to realize that pain is vacant,
When you're drowning in horror.

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