Scroll

My thoughts are lonely, dark and deep.

They take on forms, they seep and creep.

They stare at me, they hiss and sneer,

Their fangs fed by doomscrolls and fear.

I can't stand them, they won't spare me.

A door swells up, nowhere to flee.

They’ve stormed the gates, they've barged in now.

I want it to stop, but I don't know how.

They grin as they close, the air turns vile.

Noxious fumes, as they drip their bile.

Their form is known, as layers are peeled.

They sense my senses, a chink in their shield.

They are what I inject, plus a layer concealed.

Their armor laced by piles of numb reels.

They know that I know, but they stand their ground.

Who knew that their prey was fed by their hounds?

I strip their armor, lean thoughts laid bare.

I engulf them whole, lights out, no flares.

They shiver and they shout as I chew them out,

I am their God, from me did they sprout.

From me did they emerge,

From me did they thrive,

In me shall they sleep,

In me shall they die.

The land is barren, not a soul in sight.

The horizon is bleak, a sliver of dim light.

I smile as I plough my field from scratch.

An unease creeps in as I realize the catch.

Am I but a reel to a higher form?

Am I a scroll away from the storm?

Am I knocking doors of his mind?

Will he wolf me down, will he be kind?

Only time will tell. But this I know.

The mind feeds on what you choose to grow.

Numb your life, or see the signs,

His gaping mouth, only widens with time.