As The Wise Demon Beneath My Bed Once Said Poem by Ofentse Mercy Hajane

You mortals are all alike, naive and foolish.
Idealistic at best, but never practical beings.
O' how frail and pitiful are your morals,
They seem to mirror your own fragility.
So blind to the harsh realities of this world.
Listen to the old ones,
We the demons that came before you,
This world is but a leviathan,
An endless abyss of nothing and horror.
Your thoughts and deeds are but shadows,
Empty echoes in the vast emptiness that surrounds you.
Your essences and dreams are but feeble flickers of hope,
Fleeting and futile in the face of the crushing weight of despair and misery that grips this world.
Your hearts are weak and easily corruptible,
Your souls are charred by the sins of your own deeds.
Sins committed in your forever need to slake your insatiable hunger,
Sins masked in bleached clothes of your forever quest for knowledge.
For you know not the true horror of existence.
You cling to your illusions of happiness and comfort,
Never daring to confront the cruel and merciless truth that lurks in the depths of your own minds.
You are but pawns in a great game of cosmic indifference,
Swept along by the currents of fate towards an inevitable and agonizing end.
So go ahead, mortals,
Cling to your pitiful hopes and dreams.
But know this, in the end; you will all be consumed by the same darkness that surrounds us all.

O.M Hajane