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


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