Some will speak of a haunted house or a haunting of a grave yard kind, but I will tell you of another type, the haunting of my mind.
For years and days and hours of time I found I couldnít get away, the ghosts and stress of terror signs come visit me each day.
Not something I control nor order, a ceaseless assault on me, from where these goblins and horrors arrive I am not able to see.
Glimpses into a hell I lived perhaps from another time, they haunt me demanding I give yet another part of mine.
Gross images, disturbing views, racing thoughts of pain, deliver threats of impending doom or signs that Iím insane.
Drugs they help and sometimes hide, the visitors that await, they know in time I will try and not take the drugs I hate.
Then they come in crowds of many of different types and kinds, lots of visions, horrific plenty, vicious attacks within my mind.
Emotions stir and flood my soul as they wreak havoc within, and since itís me thatís here alone, I can not seem to win.
What is a man to do?
Can he escape from his own soul?
Can he leave a place in which he lives and again become one whole?
The answers clear and I have thought it much, if I were to relieve my mind and spirit of this body, I would have to leave.
But what awaits and where do I go,
and what happens then?
Will they follow and meet me there only to begin again?
Legends tell stories of old reveal to us at hand, that there existed people who lived who were the souls of damned.
Some will speak of a haunted house or a haunting of a grave yard kind, but I have told you of another type, the haunting of my mind.