Walking Into The Darkness

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 24, 2016

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Submitted: August 24, 2016

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Like a magnet opposing on the

Same side, I am turning away

From the light, walking into

The darkness, where I belong.

 

A statue of angel, falling and crashing

Onto the ground, broken into

Pieces - wings snapped off

From the body; body shattered

Into fragments. But what’s the point

Of wings when you are a statue?

The pieces, they are fragile glass

Coated by a thick layer of granite.

Yet, the statue falls apart once

The glass structure is broken, no matter

How tough that granite is.

 

A group of teen choir, with

Seemingly genuinely happy smile

On their faces. Except their

Soprano and tenor, the vibration

Of their young diaphragms and larynx,

Produces a deep voice like those

Who have been to all war zones and stages

In the world and witnessed more tragedies

Farewells and separation and failure

Than speakable by the greatest story-teller.

Their song echoes off the void and

Makes stone shed tears.

 

Black mist, rolling up on the path

That I came from, revealing

Every trench and hole that I

Stepped into, every wrong turn

I made out of stupidity and confusion,

And all the pain that weighted up,

Like a coffin full of sand drenched in

The ocean of regret, crashing down

On my words-pierced and grief-crushed heart.

The only things hidden away by

That mist are the flatlands that I have walked

Safely and smoothly on.

 

Like a magnet opposing on the

Same side, I don’t belong in the light.

Darkness is my home.


© Copyright 2017 skematt. All rights reserved.

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