Inquisitor

Peaking on the precipice of panic,
Turning day by day manic,
Fear a familiar visitor,
Domestic inquisitor.

Sitting on the edge of perceived doom,
Locked in my body in my bed in my room.
Outside is freedom and relief,
But still haunted in all locations.
This ghost has followed me down my path.
Playing tricks with my mind as it laughs.

Out again in the midst of dark mist,
On fields of lacking and no sustenance,
How can I write with this affliction?
Spaces of fuzzy gaps in my head,
They're all that exist where inspiration should be.

Now as we've both walked on for so long,
Matured into me and his games have evolved,
His influence grown and powers increased.
Confidence blown to fouler needs.