Demons Poem by James Bush

I am unsure about living or dying,
but the darkness makes me feel like crying.
The demons rise as it darkens,
the dogs start their barken.

The demons come out to play,
I have no control and nothing to say.
I start to feel even worse,
I swear this is nothing but a curse.

They start to get free,
the light I am unable to see.
They escape one by one,
I pray for my inner sun.

I need that glimmer of light,
to bad it isnt that bright.
These demons I need to repress,
or my death may be a mess.

But they keep getting stronger,
I keep feeling wronger.
Wishing to die,
not really knowing why.

Trying to get these demons out of my head,
or I will possibly soon be dead.
Maybe these demons represent my sin,
but I need to beat them or they will win.

I know one day I will die,
that thought doesnt make me cry.
But will it be by fate or me?
guess I will have to wait and see.