Poetry
Birth of Art
The
voices within I strain to hark
An attempt to mend my hurting soul
But demons gathered in a shoal
Deafen me the way they bark
Their proclivity to keep it dark
Peace of mind my perceived goal
But hurt and pain those devils dole
In this misery there is no lark
The only gate out of my hell
The bleeding streams to try and thwart
Is what the monsters want as well
Born from blackest nooks of my heart
(My devils within glut and swell)
The child of my horror! My escape! My art!