BrokenEchoes

Myriad thoughts skitter across the surface of my brain Like a growing swarm of carrion beetles Each moves according to its own internal instinct Gnawing here, writhing there Crawling over one another Trying to find a way in The buzzing and churning are driving me mad Weakening my defenses In time I will succumb I will be infested with the vile scourge The fight will be over And I will have lost.

  At a simple gesture The fetid mass begins to glow and undulate The warm of skitterlings scatter, Fearful of new events The chill, damp air softens And a breeze stirs the deep dust Bringing a gentle warmth Unseen here in ages The murky film of muck crumbles from the glass Piercing rays overtake the shadowy corners This diseased, abandoned hovel is transformed At a simple gesture.

  I have a deep unease squirming in my gut Wallowing in the sauces, flopping in the goop It causes me great discomfort and worry This small but growing threat must be dealt with Stilled, destroyed, or purged Before it can cause me further harm How though. It eats, and slithers and grows While I unsuccessfully search for a weakness A chink in its armor, a soft spot to attack If this goes on, I will be consumed And only the parasite will remain