incomplete poetry

Revisiting the dark halls of my dispossessed mind,
a strange peace fills me instead of the signature chill down my spine.

There are no horrors left here,
one by one I'd slowly faced every fear.

I kicked aside ashes from the fires of cruelty that once plagued this place,
with every pile I pass, a slow scowl forms itself on my face.

There was a nasty smell. It was distant but clear,fading yet strong, like the toll of a church bell.
It was the stench of desperation, of dead dreams. A wasteland.

Once there a was a war here. Between the guardians of my sanity and the minions of fear.
But today, all that remains is charred.

Although indifference was my tool,
it wasn't enough because they took me for a fool.

And now, after years of hatred being fed,
The poison refuses to leave, staying behind like lead.