This poem was written at an incredibly dark period of time, and is quite simply about depression.
Darkness falls upon the taunted soul,
past feelings emerging as easy as
they feel demons taking control,
turning leaves, switching minds, to
take back to hell what once belonged
to its death and fury.
To flesh and blood we sit as
nothing, mortals, mistake filled
carcasses, waiting for the next
error, waiting for guilt and acrid,
felt waiting for darkness to fall
and taunt the taunted.
Lives filled with judgement, pain,
stress and struggle, knowing not
what is meant, nor wanting the
answers we seek, and tho we sit as
nothing, and let the demons enter
our lives, we recognise a feeling
and warmth which shows we are human.
~ Sam Hansen (Published)