Terrors of this worldly life

Claws from the terrors still chase me in the woods,

Walking past the castles still make me wonder of the evils and the goods,

Footsteps ahead of me make me lean and wobble,

Around the deceptive quagmire of desires,

That make you and I, both of us unable,

To get the gist of this ill-lit and deceiving past,

The fancy and crave for such an attractive yet a temporary world,

And everything in-between has hurled me so strong that sometimes I feel I am the evil, myself.

And at times a feeling hits me all along,

Screaming loudly from the towers of my mind down upon,

Making me believe as if I am barely a soul.