Untitled poem – Part three.

I travel through your dark demension.
More often than I’d like to mention.
I might find myself at your door.
However you can be assured.

I won’t stop.
Until I’m back on top.
I’ll fight ’til my death.
With my very last breath.

I’ll come out on the other side.
Proudly wearing my morals with pride.
Sometimes it’s a diversion people need to take.
A sadistic vaction, a mental break.

To start a new.
It’s sad, but true.
You need sometimes to face the dark.
To be able to see when there’s a spark.
Of hope, of love, of dreams. Created.
For then the bad will be sedated.

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