Fistful Life

In the fist lies the power;

To break it down,

Or to make it up.

It shares the mystery

That is known to fate

But never disclosed to humanity.

When the snow melts,

And the night comes

The demons crawl up the floor.

Preaching the vulnerability

I headed to the closure

That is always sought.

Running away from all the chaos,

The demons clenched me

In the withered night.

Tormenting throughout,

The darkness;

Was a jist to what reality looks like.

When the morning came,

I was holding upon my cries

Calling upon the ritual that never dies.

With the bright morning,

I realized the power within me

In spite of the dull reality.

But now it was time

To flip the meaning

And re-construct the opportunity.