deepundergroundpoetry.com

It Watches

      
In my peripheral something shifts      
It's always there, watching      
Gaze on my back never lifts      
In every shadow stalking      
       
Were I to quickly turn to see      
Would there be nothing there?      
Try to ignore it anxiously      
Feeling prickling, raising hairs      
       
Is this real or in my head?      
This presence filling me with dread      
Would it be worse to be insane?      
Or to an apparition chained      
       
No answer comes      
To fear I numb      
I must avert my gaze      
Or people think I'm crazed      
This secret I have kept      
It matches every step      
       
When I sleep I know it stands beside      
Motionless, waiting for my rise      
Now no nightmare can phase me        
For waking, I don't know what awaits me      
       
Foul, rotten stench...      
Cold, chilling "breath"...      
A sad, despondent wretch,      
I coexist with death      
 
Knowing not what haunts me, faceless      
Or what form it may take, shapeless      
Clueless to it's intent      
Peaceful or malevolent      
Nothing to do but wait      
Hope its gaze isn't filled with hate      
       
I shake and wonder, is there help?      
Who would believe what I have felt?      
Wish to escape, for just one day      
Yet a mere glance away it stays      
       
A priest? A psychic? A padded room?      
Whatever rids me of this gloom      
The ever-present sense of doom      
Darkness in which I've been entombed      
       
I'm spiraling, losing my grip      
Engulfed in terror and panic      
Cracks in my mental fortitude      
Eroded my will as they grew      
       
Constantly wearing me down, little by little      
Tsunamis swelling from the slightest of ripples      
Trying to run, knowing not where I'm going      
Gasping for air, showing no signs of slowing      
       
Moving until my legs refuse      
Knowing I've found no refuge      
Facedown to earth I collapse      
No clue how much time has lapsed      
Lying among the shrubs and pines      
I still don't dare to look behind      
       
       
Written by Hellarchy
Published
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