Evil Within written by Criss Tripp at Spillwords.com

Evil Within

Evil Within

written by: Criss Tripp

@CrissTripp

 

Up under your mask, lies a latent lament expression.
You walk around, like you were left once defenseless.
I could sense you harness a harmed heart, that’s been damaged.
A dearly departed disturbance, lies deep inside your actions.
Alarmed, inertly discerned, frightened, disappointed, and heightened.
As I recite this, your revelry lies within, the mess you’ve incited.
Despite your inner character, is lifeless and defected;
I know you’ll never let yourself, be seen unprotected.
Before I met you, I could feel you’ve been charted;
Marked and abused by battle, disheartened.
There is within you, a heart of darkness;
You might not see it, because you’re heartless.
It’s not that way, in you, everyday;
It just acts up, when you get, displaced.
When you get upset, and you hear that voice;
Out comes the darkness, upon your face.
You cannot control it, or choose when it shows;
But whenever it does, my whole world grows cold.
Implodes then explodes, it’s too gross, to stay afloat.
Below the surface, my woes erode, like a dying rose.
It starts and acts, like a normal day;
But one little word, and your face has changed.
It turns you into, something demonic;
Your entire demeanors, completely discarded.
Your demons, are unleashed, up out of the darkness;
Now, the darkest part of your heart, becomes your fondest.
I instantly surrendered, and regretted, what I had mentioned.
Everything I said, and thought, was thrown into question.
My wife, my love, was subjected, to demonic possession.
Now, we both are headed, into a suspended direction.
By the darkest, most evil, succubus that ever was.
My wife, my queen, deliberately lost my love.
By altering, herself, over some simple words;
I thought, I knew, the person you were.
The other side comes, and I realize, I was wrong.
So far from gone, this song’s, now a sad one.
Something so small, that I shouldn’t, of muttered;
Made my mind, cluttered up enough, it shuttered.
So sudden, my emotions, had chosen, to be frozen.
It was just, something spoken, without any devotion.
Every time, I say something, dumb or thoughtless;
Makes me wish, that I wasn’t, your husband.
Sometimes, when you, get that way;
Your demons, pull me, toward decay.
I get so mad, and lose, all of control.
I get sucked, into the void, and forget my role.
You are, the only person, that I have met;
To push me, to the point, where I’d choke, your neck.
A friend, would never, make you wish, or pray for death.
We can, just go to bed, as we put this, to rest.
Instead you want, to rant about, the things that were said.
I guess, it just depends, on where, you want this, to end.
Descend or digress, I just want, what is best.
I’m tired, of making a trend, out of taking your breath.
Your demons, bring out, the very worst in me.
They scream a plea, endlessly, as they bleed, in defeat.
They turn me, to a man, that I never, wanted to see.
It’s a bleak deceit, that just keeps, haunting my dreams.
I still, cant believe, the reason, is deceased;
As fast as, I seen, my critique, get depleted.
Step out, of the darkness, and into the fire;
We both, get pulled in, and then we, burn together.
This isn’t a life, or one, I want to live in;
It is, a living hell, when I’m hurting, my mistress.
Distressed, you dance, as a devil in a dress;
It’s passed, the chance, that we are, to make amends.
I think, it’s best, that I, have decided,
To get as, far away, from all, of the fighting.
Because, in the end, all it will take,
Is one wrong turn, and a body, is maimed.
One hurts the other, the other is scared;
One other mutter, then the other, is stabbed.
Someone gets hurt, or buries a body;
Someone goes to prison, and then, no one is sorry.
This could of all been avoided, after all, I have mentioned;
When dealing, with your demons, and their, demonic intentions.
After all it took, was a heart, that’s capricious;
To release, the evil within, that will turn two lives, into pieces.

 

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

Write, incessantly, professionally, to inexorably be a memory.
Like a message in a bottle, left alone out to sea; maybe one day, your writing, can release someone’s dream.

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