Wyatt Epple

As fear sinks its claws deep into my skull,
I lose my grasp on reality.
I lose my grasp on reality and my ability to do what is right.
And as those claws grasp ever tightly, my humanity slips away.
...

I tell of the day that my Love, she hath died,
This day that no hope I could sing
The day that the Lord now hath banished me
And the Devil uncurleth his wings.
...

A bloodless revolution takes over the remainder of my being
as my soul yearns for a new life.
A relentless altercation between me
and myself
...

A shining light of hopeful love
Has blossomed in my heart
As feelings of a darkened past
Diminish.
...

The mental blackness of the deafening blast
The plentiful rush of arctic glass
Stamping out the senses.
Now finally weathered by the coolness
...

A struggle as the sun hath always risen
Across the somber vision of my brain
I loathe to leave the warmth of my gentle prison
For the unseen, hectic battlefield again.
...

Though I work
my body is still weak.
As is my mind
my soul
...

Though I am shrouded and enveloped in light
the blackness that formerly overtook me
has reared its head into my soul;
Alive.
...