Edicius Evil

EDICIUS EVIL Haunted to the point of vomit, By the memories of my ways. Thoughts of the crimes I would commit, Shedding those it harms or dismays. The mirror is my enemy. It shows me now, but speaks of then. Healing time is no friend to me. It’s killing me, but heals me when? Ample time for wise conclusions, A gift to me that is wasted. I grant myself great delusions, Forged by the failures I have tasted. My deeds of defeat scar my mind, Reminders of undeserved gains. Unwanted wanting held and consigned, To be the source of unwanted reins. Held on, held back, held high, held below, By others and by my own hands. The dark fires in me clearly glow, And claim the perch on which my soul stands. My spirit seared and left for dead, By some self-immolating goal, Producing demons in my dread, Who tempt my body to join my soul. arsnydermediocrepoet.com