The skin it crawls
As the flesh is torn
It brings relief
To a morning storm

The soul cries out
for a sweet release
For today is no different
For there is no peace.

The scars that are hidden
Come deep from within
Have now bore fruit
and lay claim to the skin.

The demons they shout
unleashing their rage
Have now made their mark
Upon another new day.

Antony King © 2018

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