His Demons.
As the lights go dim and the world stays still as it seems,
He tosses and turns, I can feel he’s drowning in his dreams.
I reach over to hold him, touch him, tell him it’s alright.
But if it’s his demons, I know he’s willing to fight.
He’s gone up to battle and taken a beating a time or two before,
But now for me, I know he aims to defeat to settle the score.
His conflicts run deep, years and years before me,
Yet I’m willing to fight for these demons to leave us be.
But if I try to save him, he will push me aside to yell “Bring it on!”,
For this is his, to fight alone, but as he knows, he’s not on his own
For after he fights ‘til the end and heads home, I’ll be waiting here with open arms and the lights on.
