Silvertongue

The Demons, they will come a ‘roving,

Soft at first, hard to see

They creep in slowly, like the timid knock on the

Tinted Glass

Or the humid breath, hovering onto the fibers of a mask

They’re here.

They’ve arrived.

Some aren’t welcome to stay, some don’t want to intrude

But all have difficulty leaving the room.

Like the ardent ambers of a dying fire, they consume your innards

Leaving your soul raw and

Sensitive to the touch

Poignant, as they may be,

Light over darkness, or night over say

They are here to stay.

Whispers that give you chills

Your heart drums against the hollow of your chest.

But like an inside wound, seemingly unharmful,

The sigh that leaves your lips,

May finally be the last.

So do what you can, to keep them out,

Those strange creatures are experienced with fright

They are not welcome, make that clear,

And if you’d like to keep them out,

Let the light in

Hope is near.