The All-Consuming

There were the demons, and there were four of them
The pale whites, entrapping, circling
And did I face them, each of them
With a gun-less stare, a stand-off in the void

Yet there was more, the all-consuming
The unquenchable source of words
The all-consuming comparison of times and beings
And reason for my counsel with the walls

There it was, the all-consuming black
And stuffed my neck with foam
And nеver am I more free to roam the mind
As at timеs my surroundings turn to stone

There they were, the all-consuming ruins
Before a great pile of the finest bricks
And I, knee-deep in dust
Scraping mortar out from under the debris

I knew the all-consuming, and I did know its trade
Its beginning and its end
My scrawny foe, the one I held up high
And with her in my grasp, blacking out my sun