This tormenting ambiance alluring.
Ghastly, yet nostalgia weeps abound.
A twinge, delicate, yet potent.
Why does it act as so?
An experience unmistaken,
Floating amongst inexpressible words,
Only you know the true picture.
Seeking the unrest that flows beneath my skin,
My veins, like Styx, carry the screams.
The confusion, manifests to a daily inferno.
Distraught, it sets ablaze to thoughts.
Raging them down hallways at speeds,
which only the unknown can read.
Unable to treat, each day returns to strife.
Agonizing is the struggle, hope reaches long.
But it cannot brighten the islands afar.
Its light, too brittle for the demons that soar.
Stronger voices that lay hidden required.
To destroy the misery, and
Turn the clock from agony.