My Poetry. Tunnel Vision.

I am swimming now in a sea of despair,
darkness all-consuming, all around.
Tempted again by the solace of the "other side,"
as the mocking, destructive voices bear their sound.

One too many battles, too many endless wars,
my spirit showing all the painful scars;
endless, ghostly symphonies of torment,
my self-worth egotistically marred.

I am walking through a perpetually darkened tunnel,
there is not even the faintest crack of light;
the cold walls are reeking, with dampness rife—
I feel I cannot face the unending fight.
The charred ruins of "come what may"
echo their promises near your face,
a vile darkness touching, prodding, beckoning you
within your own desolate space.

"Escape this torture," the voices command, "give in to me;
the light you seek you may never find.
Just accept your fate and face the cruel music,
I know I am firmly rooted in your mind."

But as darkness falls, a different light appears,
I can suddenly feel a warmth upon my hand.
Let me walk now inside your promised heaven—
I am finally outside this desolate land.

I waited until you came to me, my salvation,
and now, a powerful happiness fills the air.
A hand is reaching, beckoning, and supporting,
and I am finally relieved from this nightmare.