Late at night Deep inside the darkest corners of my mind A voice whispers Its steady pull is winning Though soft, it threatens to silence the tiny thread of logic that I cling to. Time is not my friend, and with the dawn comes disappointment once again The new day dawns, still, the voice whispers on Like a leech clinging, pulling, ripping the life from my veins. I am weak Held together by a few desperate threads The voice persists Telling me they're not enough Too thin, these threads will break and be shredded by the darkness that presses me down Yet it tells me more, the voice still mocks, telling me I'll fail as before Even in this Melynda Hoeksema