The DARKNESS within

                                                                                  The DARKNESS within

by divyanshu deep

I’ve lived in darkness a long time
over the time, my eyes adjusted until
the dark became my world
and I could see.

but then someone turned on the light
she flooded my memory,
and now I am blind
the devil dances with his demons inside

I buried a part of myself deep inside
then I was reminded if it was there at all,
I completely forgot who I was altogether
until the darkness showed up at my door

this is what it must feel like to walk in the sunlight
my darkness reveled, my shadow self-embraced
DEMONS – they see me,
I am one of them, in their darkest dreams

people think it’s fun to pretend to be a monster
me, I have spent my life pretending that
I wasn’t one
I prefer to think myself as a master of disguise

I might be breathing and walking around
but I am an empty shell,
life is so fleeting, so fragile
every breath of potential may not last

I just know that there is something dark in me
and I hide it, I certainly don’t talk about it
but it’s there always, the darkness within
and when it is driving. I feel alive

I don’t fight it
I don’t want to
he’s all I’ve got
I have to focus
to turn everything out………………….

preparation is vital
there are no secrets in life
just hidden truths that
lie beneath the surface.

if I believe in god then I believe in sin
and if I believe in sin, I’d be sucked to hell
if at all I believe in hell
I am drifting, but not to sleep.

I should be upset, even feel violated
but I am not, in fact it’s a friendly message
like hey wanna play? And yes I want to play …
with my demon inside

I’m empty… but I found a way to make it feel less bottomless.
Pretend. You pretend the feelings are there,
for the world and for the people around you.
Who knows,  maybe one day they will be.

now my concrete foundation
is turning to shifting sand
may be she was right about me, that I would
never truly know anyone in the presence of  my
darkness within

(dark days by divyanshu deep)
this poem I wrote sitting on the roof top of alsa garden on
12/12/12 in the memory o my present me. With the
help of cigarettes and a couple of vodka shots ……………..

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