I fight my demons every day with my arsenal of weapons. Weapons I have accumulated, inherited, learned, forgotten, remembered, sharpened and dulled. The stench of the army of grimy demons confronts me every night before sleep and every morning after awakening. I fight them -sometimes I win and sometimes I lose. Someday I will lose for the last time and they will take me. Someday I will not awake but lie in an alone place. Elizabeth Cady Stanton said that we come into this world alone and we leave alone. I guess that isn't true for demons - I guess they are forever. I ponder the absurdity today. The day is grey and rainy and foggy and that is what happens on such a day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem