Serena Malcolm

Where do I go from here?
Standing at the edge of my future in fear
Reflecting my past in my tears?
The now presents itself
shrouded by a cloak of darkness,
Its stealth preventing my freedom,
Its starkness inventing the reason
that I live without breathing,
I dream without sleeping
and I’ve stopped without ceasing,
Standing at the edge of my future
– The dawn of my season –
and just freezing?
My arms are nailed to the cross of my past,
Held fast by the demons I’ve fought to surpass,
Their poisonous whispers a virtual mask,
Drowning my sanity in a tempestuous bath
of guilt and profanity,
Of destruction and vanity,
Of confusion and apathy,
And I struggle for freedom from what has gone by
From the pain,
From the disappointment,
From the lies,
But in my efforts to purify and to rectify
I realise:
I stand not at the edge of my future this night,
But at the brink of demise,
My ending is nigh.
I must revolutionise my guise.