Again and again I run from the demons of my past,
Stuck looking back, feeling the lash, as echos flash, just before it starts to crash.
A painful stain worn through a bitter portion of my day,
What I run from won't ever go away, it fights to consume me in it's fermented decay. It always finds a way.
But I run as fast as I can, and it's a battle hardest to try,
The past contains demons that just don't want to die,
Running won't save me and part of me knows that's true.
It all comes catching up to me, my demons so true.
©justin_ur
J