Hope's Heir...

At the peak, or the deep,
In that trice without a care,
The need comes in a sweep,
And you seek to be elsewhere.

Your refuge is the lair -
Your demons' cozy hiding;
Only when you don't beware,
You'll find them abiding.

In every escape you dare,
You strengthen your scare;
And as you flee, fearing a raid,
You're primed to be waylaid.

Every hope sires despair,
Each dream, a nightmare;
Closer the leaves to the Sun,
Further into darkness, 
                     the roots do run.