Daymares

I can't -
Help but see 'em
Distracted by black mask-kess
Road to Damascus
A rope to a pastor
I have to ask if
Was I really made to see this?
My stomach turns as I'm being entertained by demons
They fight my internals
Leaving me
Disconcerted
With open wounds the size of crop circles
Some of you heard this
Word
Once before
They sleeping at your door
They smell your blood shed
Odor comes from open sores

Like sharks they can smell your wounds from a mile away
You can't dodge these monsoons of thoughts
'Cause when you cry, they stay
They watch over you like the killer in the tale-tell heart
They never can be defeated
Never having strength depleted
Infamous and eternal
Internal rockin' a thermal
Around their fiery furnace of a heart
Looks more like an upside down cross
In the pit under a pendulum
A boiling pot of obstruction and misused justice
Lies that are spontaneously combusted
With a spear that's been thrusted
Down the center
While a cauldron topples over
You hear the muffled cries of a broken sinner
Your heart breaks
His anguish runs deeper than oceans bottoms
Every moan and every wail
Brings back the reality of Gomorrah and Sodom
His loud cries and vocal strains
Repeatedly barricade your rib cage
He's trapped, and locked in a cell of torment
A dying slave
With no wisdom guiding you, you reach out to grab his burning hand
But as you get closer, his face is still intact as a man
Fully recognizing his complexion
You pause in horror
And look back again
As if a ghost has been seen
it's more clearer
But the fear of seeing His agony
Only shows to you a mirror...