A poem by Natasha Lomov
If peace resides inside my head,
Please be sure to count me dead.
For paper demons wage a war,
One I simply can’t ignore.
All they eat is salt and glass
That’s spilled upon the ground.
It’s not my fault, but I wish it was.
The fiend I have not found.
They sing and scream, “The end is near!”
Till the steeples bend.
But you aren’t the ones with open wounds
Who wanted this to end.
Those paper demons burn and tear,
They’re as fragile as can be.
I’m the only one they scare,
Someday I will be free.
Natasha Lomov is a student from Sydney, Australia who writes poetry in her spare time. She is currently finishing her last year of high school, with aspirations in biology, chemistry and possibly forensic science.