by C. Ikpoh

Full autonomy of myself, or controlled schizophrenia if you may. I have inherited the torment of my forefathers failures. This combined with a righteousness; a determination against a part of my own essential nature. My Lord, my Salvation, my Evaluator, am I living or are they?

I am told they are. They exist like an expanding hallowness in my throat when exposed to their agitators. Their fire is so intense in my core, my spirit flows through the River Styx. It is who I... who they... who we have become. They congregate purposefully asking each other, all while knowing I am listening, "Why does he deny who he is? Why not indulge in his true excellence?" The pain of resisting agreement is perpetual. Yet, I do. I resist because I must keep living.

Therefore, I live! And when I do such, I surpass my forefathers. Victory is here. Oh, the blessings vibrate from my origins. Elation is mine, all mine! The warmth becomes so comforting it emanates from my blood. Light and clarity are married eternally as I raise ecstatic joy because my legacies are safe. My legacies are safe.  My legacies... mine... they are... yes... they are safe.

Yet, I will forever be tormented, subjected to the immortality of my demons. I doubt my own victories while inquiring to myself privately, knowing they will listen, "If I have defeated them, why must I still endure?" They laugh an ageless cackle. Forever they will damn souls as they have since the dawn of time. They are my controlled schizophrenia, my inherited torment. They are my demons.