I am not plagued by what plagues my peers.
I am not plagued by what plagued my ancestors.
I am plagued by what plagues ME.
Like Charon’s’ fingers ripping through curtains of darkness, its shallow whispers seek to stifle my voice.
I rise at dawn racing to escape the dark recesses of my mind.
I wish them away… they start to fade, a sense of peace assails my mind.
Like a dot of light, a patch of clarity on a foggy morning, so are the words crooning through my ear piece.
Looking at the computer, I find myself sinking again.
Written for two challenges: