This was written just before the start of my addiction. I didn't know it then, but I was foreshadowing my downfall.
Take my hand, I beg you.
Show me the path that leads to my escape.
A malevolent dark cloud hovers above me
Shutting out the light of day.
I’m lost in the spirit world
Hidden deep within the confines of my own mind.
The warmth of the sun seems too far from my grasp.
Searching for a hand to guide me
Through the darkness,
I found a well-hidden mask
Among the ones I trusted.
Trickery leads to manipulated paths
As I held on tight to the words
that would lead me to my undoing.
Surrounded by loved ones
But so far from the brightly lit road.
The trickster in the form of a caregiver
Lead me away from the twinkling stars,
Quickly passed the moon’s bright blue glow,
Through the shadows, and away from
The dim flickers of hope.
Suddenly, I stood alone without a hand to hold.
Death stood hooded in front of me.
I looked deep within the eyes for a light
And waited for the warmth within the embrace,
But the cold bit my senses only to reveal
Fake scenery and erroneous words followed by laughter.
There was no warmth in the embrace
Or light in the eyes of Death.
Instead I found myself lost in confusion,
Unwillingly spiraling down a never-ending staircase,
Losing focus and motivation,
And gasping for a breath of untainted air.
Love and trust in my trickster
Brought me to a point of despair
With newfound feelings of loneliness.
Now standing in front of Death,
I am nothing other than
© 2021 Grace Peterson