There I stood, in the depths of night

Churning fire set my soul alight

Clasped in hand was the instrument of my demise

A single cut; The precipice upon which life resides.

But then the song of my brothers echoed in my ears,

Bringing with it the end of my fears.

I awoke, breath stilling, broken and battered,

My mind tattered.

Fraying at the edges of broken wings;

Failed devices of my imagination - I felt the bitter wind of broken things.

Unsteady, I raised myself on weary feet,

To bring my gaze to the foe I must beat.

Winter's bite nips at my heels

Whilst I enter the building at the core of my ills 

Smiling, laughing, jokes aside; I don’t think that I’m okay inside.

Three periods go by;

My head was a tempest, dark thoughts and dark skies.

Until I could not help but say good-bye.

I stood atop stairs,

Looking down on the dispeller of my despairs.

Blue eyes pierce my soul,

Deriving the maelstrom of some of its control

“Do we need to find help?,” she asks. “I wish for you to achieve your best.”

Shaking, hoping, I nod my head yes.

Red eyes, red cross,

Red blood; I quickly explain, 

“Grandpa’s knife; an heirloom.” - “It was almost the herald of my doom.”

Worried glances are interchanged.

It is decided; to another hospital, I must be exchanged.

I enter cautiously, a slight tremble in my step, unsure of what to expect.

I am greeted by smiling faces; 

For there are no demons here, only their traces.

I talk and laugh, and the storm abates.

And so I decide; my tools I must create.

Skills and stratagems are my choice of study, tactics in my war against my mind. 

And through it all, my fellows remain kind.

And that’s how I survived Beyond the Pale.

I made the demons turn their tails,

So I could write myself a new tale.

Though I may not see my fellows and friends once more, they will be in my heart forevermore.