IT
It creeps inside my head
And slowly dignifies
It sleeps beneath my bed
And somehow justifies
It burns about my soul
Creating more desire
It yearns to take it's toll
Reforming me, the liar
It grows about my mind
Surrounds my solitude
It slows my hope to find
While morals become crude
It set the record wrong
Destruction takes it's course
It let my death prolong
This being of remorse
Derek James