Demon Perches Poem by Lilith Van'Nightinveil

A demon perches upon my chest,
Squeezing my heart with a vice-like zest.
His grip constricts, my breaths grow small,
In and out, I struggle and crawl.

I try to move, to break his hold,
But he lingers still, as my heart grows cold.
The pitter-patter of my heart is loud,
Echoing memories of which I'm not proud.

My soul aches with the weight of it all,
The tears burst forth, I cannot stall.
They run like rivers, crimson-red,
As my hands shake and my soul feels dead.

The demon's grip may be strong and unyielding,
But with each tear shed, my spirit is healing.
I'll break free from this choking hold,
And rise again, strong and bold.

For though the demon may sit on my chest,
I'll fight through the pain and give it my best.
And when I stand victorious and whole,
I'll know that I've conquered my inner demon's toll.