Another Fallen

Another fallen,
another corrupted,
the world's perversion
again erupted,
the innocent down,
the ears to bleed
with a mouth to follow,
no good left to speak,
a tongue to once
lift up and encourage
now falls into dirt,
the filth in an overage.
The mind was filled
with only purity
until the outside world
sucked dry, drained empty.
The words once positive
now turned to poison
are on the verge
of causing complete ruin
as one cancer spreads
itself to another
until the bodies dead
can only topple over each other.

Fear

Creaking wood
burns my ears,
bringing to life
my biggest fears:
there's a stranger
in my home
where I am
no longer alone.
I try to go
look up the stairs
but am frozen by
my paralysis in the air.
I can only
slightly move my
head to look
up towards the sky
to the next floor
where the sound
was first discovered
and first found
to see if
the ceiling gives
any clues as to
what above me lives.
My mind begins
to quickly race
as it refuses
a slower pace
but instead
continually goes
as outside
the wind blows
harder and harder
upon the window
that now creaks
and moves so slow.
Fear cripples
my every move
until it causes
my body to improve
to a walking
motion not
before accomplished
though it ought.
I gradually make
my way up,
so slowly,
nothing abrupt.
I pursue it,
the shadow that
exceeds imagination,
this Cheshire Cat.
I go to prove
that fear controls
nothing of mine,
that is has no hold
until the creature
I go after
grabs my soul
with a haunting laughter.
The consumption of
my being quickly
eradicates my mind
from it's existence, ever sickly.
That which I
convinced myself
was not to be feared
was worst than fear itself,
my lesson learned
as my soul paid,
nothing left
but a corpse to be laid.

Mind Trick

The trick the mind
plays on the senses
tears down walls
and all defenses.
A disease not caught
at the present time
is feared to be in the future
by what some call a paranoid mind.
A cough heard
both here and there
that makes stand up
the back of the neck's hair.
Worries rush
over hands being washed
with a preemptive strike
to fight germs until squashed.
The mere thought that passes
through the mind
takes up all
available time.
Brain power drained
in an effort to win
the bout that's here
to be fought again.
A memory saved
of the previous war
that took energy
and much, much more.

The thought on which
my mind is stuck
will dominate the night,
as is my luck.
The constant obsession
that gives me health
eats away
at my mental wealth.
With nothing left
in a mind driven crazy
I pray for an emptiness
in a mind craving to be lazy.