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Demon of the Mist
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Two-faced liar
To which I aspire
Dull recognition of my own inner flame
A twisted mind to cry
And pry
Into my thoughts
Until I wonder why
It brought
The things I could not seem to leave

Useless man
Wicked child
Hand in a cookie jar and eyes growing wild
Kill to preserve
The secrets
That we don’t deserve
To keep as I foster a smile

Wicked inner head
That thinks
Even still when I am dead
Twisted hands that choke me til I wish that I could die
My assailant passes by
Wicked eyes
I look into the chamber
Of a rusted forty-five

But I can’t kill the enemy
I cannot kill the one I always see
I cannot kill the thing that tortures every part of me
That worships you

Inside the mirror I truly see
My enemy, so vile there
Is me