Stress

Echoes in the silence
Fissures on the ground
Harpies in the atmosphere
Sniping all around.
Poison in the watercourse
Blades against my feet
Demons hurl their barbs
As they gibber in retreat.
Stress is my counterpart
It accompanies me everywhere
It gnaws at my entrails
And removes my hair.
It overworks my heart
It strangles at my chest
It haunts my waking hours
And torments me at rest.
It does a repeat performance
Each and every day
It serves to fire and motivate
I like to be this way.

The first two lines came to me in the shower - from where I don't know. I thought, "I like that - I'll use them when next I write." I got to work and had a spare moment, typed them and just kept going. As I wrote I thought of life-threatening situations and used them as they came to me.