NoctemTenebris

Sweet darkness embraces me and I lose myself in its caress Words and jests meld in my heart A great world's prowess A small world's duress A soul dead among the ashes of what was once a grand castle, its lights long ago dimmed and exhausted by hatred and violence, blinded to the sorrow of the mind Is it not true we are but fleeting? Then why should I keep fighting? Fighting for a world that will not save itself Struggling to uphold vague concepts like care, thought and love Struggling to balance wisdom and elitist hope But the darkness speaks not of silence, nor of vengeance or violence. The darkness breathes fire in its dark, a beacon, a beautiful light that sheds warmth in its wake, never to surrender, never afraid. The darkness' voice has changed. It speaks in breaths and gestures, uplifts, reassures and cradles; brightness in a world without candles, lit by the fires of souls intertwined. Only one path lies ahead; renewal through destruction, itself word of a thousand contexts.