Secrets.
Buried secrets.
Hidden secrets.
Dark secrets.
These are the are thread of which my web of lies is made.
They haunt me like a spirit.
They torment me.
They laugh and spit in my face.
They whisper dark things in the black of the night.
The clock ticks and tocks steadily onward, but time is held still. Frozen in place.
My memories are like demons.
They torture me.
In the quiet darkness they molest me.
In the screaming sun they rip apart my skin and bones.
I am but a feather in the wind.
A glass upon a high tower.
Fragile and alone.
There is nowhere to turn.
I am alone in this cold, cruel world.
Nothing can save me now.
I am like a shattered mirror.
A broken reflection of times gone past.
Secrets.
They tear apart my soul.
They tease me with their mocking laughter.
Like ghosts they come to me, silent and unafraid.
Tormented by their own truth, they seek to fulfill their desire of pain.
To ruin me.
To break me.
To strip me of my life and leave me as nothing but a skeleton hanging from a blackened tree.
No force on earth could stop them.
Their thirst for destruction is unquenchable.
They desire to kill and to maim.
To disfigure and deform.
They prey on the weak and crush the strong.
There is nothing that could divulge them from their path.
Secrets.
They are the bitter poison in the sweet glass of wine.
They are subtle and misleading.
They are quiet and unheard.
Unspoken they rampage.
They are but a whisper on the deadly winds of time.
They weather away the most solid rock.
The mightiest mountain they crush beneath their feet.
They set fire to the earth.
A ravenous flame seeking to devour all that is living.
In the darkness they prowl, like a lion, wishing to engorge itself upon the flesh of the unworthy.
Not even the righteous will be spared from its antagonizing grip, its icy glare, its piercing gaze, its flaming eyes burning with the thought of revenge.