The Torment
By: James Dubeau
No matter where I turn
Or try to think
The torment
Is ready for me
Mental anguish
Which stops the brain
From being rational
Or being sane
There appears to be no end
To the pain and suffering
I seek
At least not any time
For which I can see
Forever more
This is baggage
Which I must carry
Until the time
When the torment ends
And the cool black hands
Of night embrace me
Envelop me
Into darkness
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A self-congratulating, back-patting, narcissistic, creative? writing experiment... Thanks for stopping by, constructive comments appreciated. All posted writing is a work in progress and may be updated at any time.
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