The boogey man

The boogey man is not a man,
But a monstrous cavity in the minds of the men.
Black corners and shaded wardrobes,
What deamon, boggle, hobgoblin the bedstead-dark holds?

Eyes are sticked on the darkness,
Noble nowhere: the wide pupil is seeing far less
While the truth is under your nose:
Thousand lies’ eyes lie upon you that no one knows now.

Spiders? Rat snakes? What’s hidden there?
No one knows and no one cares by-chance you barely dare;
It’s you and your mind – your demons
Who barely care – its self-destruction deepens itself.

Dark room, wardrobe and under-bed;
Darkness dwells in none of among them, but in your head.
Empty-headed pics of crassness,
Made by no boogey, but an ignorant’s recklessness.

Put away your holy water;
No need for illusive Jinn-conjurer Gin-tonics.
Darkness knows one weapon: homage;
Nightmares can be killed only through the light of knowledge.

Black corners and shaded wardrobes,
What morbid poison, what fearful drug your brain cells hold?
Embrace no torch, no crucifix;
The thirst of knowledge dries out every grim-naughty pics.

Benyamin Bensalah

22.05.2018

3 thoughts on “The boogey man

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