There are demons that pace restlessly within the mind that knock constantly, insistently to make their presence known. Turning my back only makes them stronger, growing and strengthening with every breath that fills my lungs and generates my heart -- they dance in the shadows outlined by flames like puppets in a cave. When will I know the secret to breaking them down? Will the day ever come when I am in control?
Smoky thoughts billow and slink along empty streets.
Creeping animations of crowds at dusk
Flicker then fade.
A moment -- be still!
Escape.
Virtue sneaks along alleyways and street corners
Street lights dim their faces.
A second sticks.
An aged doorway; a decaying room.
Innovation escapes to a vacant horizon.
Restlessness faces its mentor.
A moment -- be alive!
Eluded.
The minds of the occupied remain quite still.
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