Demons

I've got these demons on my mind that won't cease these hauntings. It's like everyday is Halloween and there's a goblin or a ghost wherever I should look. My eyes are accustomed to darkness like I was born to see the blankness. The world has paced by fast and I feel like a snails pace could make it right.
 I'm chasing these demons like it was meant to be a treat, as if I was born to be a horseman without his head. I keep believing one more time would do me right, like all I really needed was a fright. There's so much to this nightmare I couldn't paint but let me light the fuse just once. Let you see the writings in the darkness.
 The bloody prints that had to be etched with broken nails, screaming in torment because these demons are within. As if they spread when the quills within my hand, I've written them to life so many times only to awake at night to these faces. The ones that are elusive but always so inclusive, never once thought these demons were for me until the light abandoned me.
 Perhaps it was I walking in eternity that chose the darkness, the solitude and lonely to comfort me. How do you run from these demonic thoughts when a single second of lonely is a spark that just combusts? Am I meant to burn a blaze or is the blaze who I really am? Was the burns upon my skin just for show or was I really the demon, a hellspawn...