I have had it with this dreadful spirit, turning my soul towards servitude,
I have had it with this treacherous ravine which splits my chest in two,
I have had it with these blabbering say-nothings trying to seal it with string.

I am tired of this demon rocking me to sleep with its bone-white claws,
I am tired of seeing my existence in grey and black shades,
objects which are numb to the touch.

Spirit, it is time that I exorcise thee,
Time that I crumble your stronghold,
Build it anew as my own sacred fortress!

I know your hiding place,
I have found you, but I cannot yank you out of it.
You hide behind the shades.

Self-loathing, doubt, dread,
Hubris, humiliation, superciliousness,
But most of all hypocrisy.
You hide behind that which I cannot rid myself of,
Those things I so loathe that they taint my entire being,
Defeating that which chases you by making it chase itself.

And now there you are,
Sick, disgusting creature,
Smirking so smugly as you wrap me in darkness.

Divide and conquer, says the great Machiavelli,
an objective you achieve so ingeniously,
so consistently.

And here I am,
a man against himself,
aware of the futility but finding no way out.

Image: https://www.boredpanda.com/depression-through-art/?media_id=658433

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