lithedark

One year ago we stand, side by side, looking out
At a place not so far but so bright, yet without
Noticing the shadow creeping, creeping behind
Threatening our way of life, our niche in time

Now we look back, bright skies for one, all else is dark
The gray has slain us, dried up our hearts, left a mark
The dreadful dreaded death that lurks above, poised
Yet already its mark is felt, obscured by noise

As I sink and feel the sinking feeling nearing
She looks back in guilt and pain, not loving, fearing
Driven off by emotions’ demons, they drag her
Smiling and sobbing, rescued and destroyed, to love

I lay awake and stare upon the backs of eyelids
Curtains drawn, the bright lights pierce the sombre dark
And yet fierce, the biting brights that haunt my nights
They creep the walls like slender spikes, climbing
Vining, snaking, twining, reaching nightmare heights
Somewhere the din of soft voices, rumbles laughter
Perhaps, yet torn asunder, my dark world dark after
Pierced by callous motions ever hereafter

Finding myself lost after some time being found. Whether here, or not here, or depressed, or elated; whether active or inactive, reactive or proactive; whether yearning and begging, pleading, or turning, treading; making a place to lie or a place to lay, to sleep, to dwell. Here I am now, here.