Haven 3.0 (Refuge through soul searching)

Thoughts seem to be messed up
And words come out confused
The ink refuses to flow on the paper
As all my feelings get abused.

Violence, deceit and a lust for power
Surrounded by other myriad vices
Pessimism hampers breaking those shackles
As I end up entangled in severe crisis.

Winning against the visible enemies
Seems easier to their venoms
But the more I fight, the more I exhaust
By fighting my veiled, inner demons.

Tired of fighting, I crave for a haven
I seek it meticulously by soul searching
I pen down this poem as a last ray of hope
To steady my boat of life from lurching.