The Darkest side of Fear


Is only a reflection of myself and my

stubborn pride that looks back at me

from the ornately framed mirror in

my dimly lit room with bitter discord

and resentment for the shallowness

of my life and who I was to become?


Like an hour-glass placed before me

they watched my life slowly take a shape

of sadness and lonely days and nights

resigned to play a fool in this masquerade

as time slipped so slowly away and anger

quickly turned to madness while  demons

rejoice and fight to have my soul to

call their own.


By night they stalk my dreams and take

control as if they have the right to be there

and open up past wounds that haunt me

for they know the maggots were alive and

fed from my tender youth like charred

ashes from the scattered souls beneath

my bruised and battered life.


I fought them off the demons that

persisted in taking possession of my

sanity by pushing me to the edge of

madness each time with tongues so

jagged and long they entered to bring

me to their bosoms of filth that they

buried within their blackness

buried there.


So many times my values were challenged

by mother of mercy who lifted me up on

wings of glory each time I fell to the depths

of despair and shadowed by the darkness

that persisted in my life until I could bear

no more hurt and mistrust they took control

of my life and led me away from the evil in

the house that possessed my soul.


Out of the depths of sorrow I screamed

to give me peace and let me live a life of

servitude to him who would set me free

to be a man of character and resiliency

for mother to see the boy who fought to

save her from her own demons of abuse

and alcohol and men of mindless hate

for woman who they trampled underfoot

and fist and brutal beaten to submission.


Mother was the one who paid the greatest

price for being kind and gentle to these

men and had to favor them in submission

to protect her children from their will who

only caused us fear and many tears.


Fear thee not gentle mothers and daughters

who never deserved the wrath of men forsaken

though they were they lived and fought like

valiant tortured souls who were never given

in to die for being kind instead they showed

the love that only comes from women with

protective hearts in turmoil and fought these

demons off the best they could to keep their

children clean and pure.


This mirror haunts me still today

and casts an image of a man who lived with

anger of losing to those demons while

protecting his mother from being taken

from him by the darkest side of fear.


Copyright Vincent Moore 2012. All Rights Reserved


The Darkest side of Fear — 6 Comments

    • I think you and I are lost brothers from another mother:-) We have shared some common wells, deep from the abyss they come my fine poet.

  1. Harvey Stelman says:

    You sir, are an excellent writer. I do hope your writing is not about yourself. If it is, you lack some understanding of yourself. With your writing ability, I see only success.

    • Thank you Harvey for stopping in for a visit and review of my work here. Much of my poetry has shadows of me within them, some more than others. Yet they are based on my past, not my present. I had a shaded upbringing, abuse, violence and always on the run. Much of me back then comes out from deep within. I am blessed to be alive today and sharing from my Muse. Much appreciate your kind words and my success.

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