The confides of my mind, <br />Is a sick and lonely place, <br />All those who would dare enter, <br />Leave no leaving trace, <br />Anyone who has approached it, <br />Has never read the signs, <br />The warnings of terror soaked, <br />In the blood of the once divine, <br />And though many want to heal it, <br />To plant the seeds of hope, <br />The seeds are all rejected, <br />Because the soil cannot cope, <br />And the planter leaves rejected, <br />Hanging their head down low, <br />They make their way to exit, <br />But the demons won’t let them go, <br />They grasp for the planter’s soul, <br />Stopping their departure, <br />And they bear a wound forever, <br />A scar from the arrow’s archer, <br />But the demons are deceiving, <br />And lure in their new prey, <br />And as the prey draws nearer, <br />I try to yell and say, <br />“Turn back while you’re still happy”, <br />“Turn back while you’re still alive”, <br />“You’re only going to feed them”, <br />“And increase their hateful hive”, <br />But the prey always has hope, <br />That they may change my soul, <br />They continue to plant seeds, <br />To reach the impossible goal, <br />Take this as a warning, <br />The soil has been salted, <br />And no plant will grow here, <br />The life has all been halted.<br /><br />Trevor Thompson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/confides/
