Monsters

I heard someone say,
not long ago;
there's nothing under my bed.
All monsters that play,
and give me pain;
indeed, live inside my head.

'tis now that I lay,

wide awake;

inside my darkened space.

That I begin to,

understand;

monsters don't need a face.

For the devil's who,

you let it be;

dragon, werewolf, or an elf.

& sometimes it hides,

just within;

I'm my nightmare myself.

Sometime it took,

to let it sink;

nobody can give me help.

& the monsters don't,

live in my head;

my mind's the monster itself.

Like a devil's spell,

it makes me see;

whatever it wants me to see.

Sometimes It serves me,

ache in bliss;

sometimes, bliss in tragedy.

So, I know why they all,

invented hell;

to distract you from purgatory.

For there's no place,

as dark as brain;

'tis the worst place for us to be.