|
|
|
Life May Be Our White |
| Written by Evan Dover | |
| Tuesday, 20 May 2008 | |
Life may be our white. White can either be composed of something or nothing.
The darkness encroaches. Some think that light over comes the dark. But no one's always right. I feel it covering me. I feel the wretched darkness intertwining me. It's coming into me, becoming one with who I am. But it's not who I am. It's what I've become. I'm different, I'm separate- but not for long. You can hear how light overcomes the darkness. That light is pouring in, but the black keeps on blotching over. It's capturing me, captivating me, and yet I want out. It's a bitter taste poisoning my mouth. This darkness produced these scars on my hands, the blood on my hands, and the sweat on my temple. There's no hope, that beast is coming. The darkness is filling and I have no strength of my own. He looks at me and tempts me with his flame. He hides in the shadows, but oh so near, and oh so bright. It's his light which joins the darkness. Both combined have me in a pit. I look for those steps, but they're overwhelmed. My moves are endless, but all have the same end. The darkness now has me fully, but that light is coming. It's by my side, but to no avail. The darkness overpowers it, or joins it. They have me. I can search, but I'm stuck with my hands. These filthy hands which brought me here and do not dare to bring me out. I kneel and rip my hair with these hands of mine. I yell and die here on my knees. The emptiness feels so full. But I feel it coming as I wait here in the illimitable darkness. My last hope has betrayed me. I'm fearfully alone in this last hour. I grasp for my neck to bring myself out of this horror, but I act against my will. I wanted to kill the pain, but brought so much more. Now I'm left to my dimming white.
Life may be our black. Black can either be composed of something or nothing. Copyright 2008 Evan Dover |
| < Prev | Next > |
|---|
via Email