Within the confines of my myself,
A thief sits biding his time,
To rob me of my inner strength,
My wisdom covers with slime.
He feeds upon my fear and hate,
And leads me by my passion,
Has no reason, no sense of worth,
And never shows compassion.
To let him lead in his own way,
Invites me to destruction,
Because his thoughts always are,
A total misconstruction.
And though he goes by many names,
To deceive his occupiers,
The most common used is anger,
But all his names are liars.
© Gary Ivin.