The moments of despair when I\'m weak,
dust devils roll through my thoughts.
I double dog dare myself to speak,
watching every corner and hidden spot.
Looking for shadows wanting to creep,
ghosts hovering silently through.
Grasping firm for the drop is deep,
distant my motion is far from view.
Do I wake them and make them aware?
Do I speak to them aloud or whisper clear?
In my moments of despair,
doubled over with fear,
I always stay silent.