Colin F. Jones

TORMENT

More oft do I in sleep see clearer light,
That I in daytime witness with my sight,
For deep in darkness one doth better see,
That which in light hides defiantly from me.
Few demons walk in daylight to be seen,
Though then it’s on display all that they glean,
For destroying sleep more beneficial in the dark,
Displays in light the substance of its mark.
To some it may by presence absent be,
Denounced and placed in some other category,
That pleases them to choose to take offence,
Unwise, therefore surprised by the consequence.

Yet what more willing subject can we find,
Than one who is so kind yet seen unkind,
By those who cannot know nor inward look,
Though before their foolish eyes is spread his book.
It might be pity that they seek to give,
For with such demons they think they could not live.
Yet where pity serves no change it has no place,
Often making the demons harder for one to face.
Mysterious it may seem; that in darkness hides,
That rises with the sunset like phantom tides,
To overwhelm with insidious waves of thought,
That tread water in the mind like a lobster caught
Inside a cage from which it can’t get free;
Deep in the blackness where the demons be.