The specters are cloaked in blackness
Haunting the corners of my bedroom
I have not slept there for a month
Instead I rest on the couch in the spare room where it feels safe
A man my age should not be afraid of such things
Yet the feeling that I am experiencing is strong and inescapable
Is it a form of psychosis?
Truly I cannot tell the difference between madness and evil presence
Some nights I can muster the courage to face my demons
Will I lay in my own bed tonight?
The sofa brings aches and pains
I know I must grow out of this fear
But it’s hard to fight things I cannot see or touch
I go through periods of strength
I am not always afraid of spirits
Maybe it is the change I am going through that brings agitation
The terror I have in facing life manifest as a dark force
If only I knew the answer
Then a solution may be had
Some nights prayer is the only light that saves me from distress
Holding a bible close by is like putting on a suit of armor
Perhaps my faith seeking mother can say a blessing over my room
To keep the wraiths from staying there
I only wish I didn’t feel so alone
On nights that my Love is with me the fear vanishes
I feel at peace with her by my side
And when company spends time with me
I am distracted and feel warmth in my home
It is really the cold emptiness that most scares me
I am stuck in the room with nothing but air
What else is cold and empty?
Dead things are
And if I am honest
When I am so alone
All I can sense is death
Is it my own mortality that I am so afraid of?
I think not
It is fear of fear itself that sends me into a panic
How can I brighten up my resting place so that it feels full of life?
If only I knew