I wrote this in 1992, at the age of 18. By then I had been writing for almost a decade. This was my way of giving a voice to the whispers in my mind and the pressing convictions of my heart.
Corridors is a raw reflection of a battle against the screams of suffering.
They come at night to steal my dreams
to fill my mind with wicked things.
They sneak into my little head
and fill me up with endless dread.
There is no end, no end indeed
for in my dreams the demons lead.
Down corridors of ancient past
memories dug up, not meant to last.
Faces long forgotten haunt
heartless and brutal they tease and they taunt.
The demons laugh as I scream and cry out
but no one can hear but the face of doubt.
And as the night turns into day
all the demons fade away.
Except the spider in my head
forever weaving that tangled web.