A pattern played
Their brightness seized
Turned back on them
A harsher light
By broken souls
Who feed on other’s weakness
I close my eyes
And dream of sky
Pretend there’s green
Hear the song
Feel the breeze
And the sun’s blue rays
But at the edge
Brief silhouette
As sunlight rages
And resists
One sunny Sunday
Death came to my smithy
In his shroud of black
Trailing a shadow, like blood
Spilt on the butcher’s floor
Your time has come.
Said Death
What say you?
I am not ready, Ancient One.
So say they all.
The light
It hurt too much
I saw too much
I felt too much
Darkness was cool
Darkness was painless
Darkness was sightless
Darkness was easy
He is a shadow
That is his essence
It surprised me
That I admired him
For his perseverance
For his tenacity
For his will to exist
For his endurance
I do not notice the darkness
In the blink of an eye
Until I turn my attention to it
I cannot know the depth of my being
Until I still the mental chatter
Distracting me from its presence
I don’t know if it’s better
To be blinded by darkness or light
But I know it is shadow
Which gives form and texture
To an illuminated world
In the intricate darkness
I find beauty
I find insight
Without a subtle understanding
Of the complexity of darkness
I will never see the light truly
Pix to Words 