My quill strikes this page in my control but wanders aimless, for that night was but an empty husk with no clear conscience. A blur it was and it does stay with me, that darkest moon upon my sight and winter breeze upon my skin of which I touch but be no touch. Meaningless, my title, and ne’er it be known, for it be a haze just like that night.
I felt a sight upon me, strong upon my spine; the cold crept up and made the night a night of no known night. Its breath upon my ears, it speaks, but no words be heard for an empty voice in an empty forest is absurd. Clouds, they came, but from the ground, and swelled around my feet, and thicken, they did, till it caught I, in its grasp. The heavens, I know, can see my plea but offer no help to me, as the darkness, oh the darkness, takes me to the edge and persuades me to take the trip, the trip of no return. The trip is merely a thin prick upon my vein but does me like a blade and the darkness is that blade, and the blade is that prick and the prick is the darkness, oh the darkness, is in me. And so I take the trip.
The darkness starts to cover me, not from the outside but from the inside, and dulls the light of which I had, and have no longer. The lantern flame did flicker when the heavens did not speak, and the heavens did not see and the heavens did not hear and so there be heavens no longer and so the flame is out. Now the ground is gone and so I fall, and I fall into its arms, its arms shall welcome and in the darkness, I am welcomed. The void does welcome me and in the void, I will rest, but not in peace, no, not in peace, but in an endless debt, for my soul of which I sold, to be in ignorant bliss. And now the darkness has me and so I do regret, of all the times I felt the prick for that short bit of rest, and oh, I wish the heavens heard me, instead of him beneath my feet, but perhaps my ears were covered, and so I did not hear, of all the times the heavens tried, and tried, to save me but now I listen; oh, now I listen and I hope it is not too late. Oh the darkness, in its grasp, I am, but now I listen, and in its grasp, I was. Clear, I hear the heavens now; and now the night is day, and so I want for nothing and in Him, I am saved.
© Copyright 2016 aussie310. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Religion and Spirituality
Miscellaneous / Poetry
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