My demons, quite in their sleep.
They slumber,
They wait.
But I, in my own world.
Fighting each day,
Searching every moment,
For who I truly am
Who I'm born to be.
On the other hand
My angels, awake,
Eyes wide open,
They watch,
Encouraging me to be still.
To have have hope,
Ill find all i seek.
But there is another hand,
Where my sleeping demons
Reminds me they all i seek
Should i wake them and get my answers,
And live with torture till i sleep with them
Or live questioning my very own existence.