Paranoia the darkest son of evil

Sneaks in like a thief in the night

Knows he will soon become master

Who’s darkness consumes the light.


The mind becomes the play ground

And thoughts become the seeds

The fruits they bare are toxic

And on this fruit it feeds


Without the fruit it withers

It’s life cannot sustain

Retreating into a dark recess

Your soul it wants to gain


Waiting for its time to strike

Then ravages in the head

Excelling hurt and pain so much

It would be easier to be dead

John Hayden


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