The Thief

The Thief

My mouth was flooding with water,
I spat and gasped for air,
The anchor pulling upon my ankles,
Threatened the abyssal lair.

I fought against a panic,
The undertow called my name,
I'd burned a scar into my soul,
And things could never be the same,

A war each day a battle fought,
I just would not lay and die,
My mind was cunning and deceiving,
Tempting the usual lie.

The voice says: “Inflict the wound upon yourself,
Your loss of pride my gain,
Satisfy my burning desire,
To increase your suffering and pain.
Just one more shot of short relief,
To wound and kill and maim,
Your self esteem I steal from you,
Self destruction is my name.”

Copyright (c) 2013 David A. Vitali