On those dark, lonely nights

The come creeping.

Unearthing themselves from their grave

They come back to chase you, to haunt you.

Those things you kept buried away.

 

At first, you feel a cool breeze down your spine,

Then cold sweat pooled up on your forehead.

You hold your head,

Trying to make them stop,

But you can see them in the distance.

 

Try as you might to hide,

You know they’ll eventually find you.

Your fear, your regret, your past.

Those demons you kept locked inside you.

 

A banshee screaming your faults

The deafening roar of imperfection.

The troll hiding under the bridge

Keeps you in constant fear of the future.

The blood curdling howl of your mistakes

And the havoc your choices wreaked.

The ghost from your past

Coming to get you once again.

 

There’s no way to hide,

No way to escape.

The only thing you can do

Is sit there in fear, and

Wait as depression sinks in.

Bury them again,

This time, extra deep.

But add one more demon,

An extension to the list:

The burden of over thinking.