Sitting in the dark

Sitting in the dark, it’s hard to see the shadows.
Watching so intently, forever waiting for the signs to be there.
I play out the dreams in my mind,
Watching the dance, seeing the shadows take form.
The dreams are nightmares, terrors that haunt my day.
Things to reach for, dreams to be realized, horrors to be felt.
So many pains left for me in this world, nothing seems any different.
How far, how long? when will the shadow dance be over?
Torn and tattered the remains of what once was still haunts this place.
These hollow passages once my heart.
Foreboding signs painted along the walls, sigils of what once were better days.
How is it truly better to be here?
So alone, wandering the darkest places searching for something not present.
Hidden among the shadows of past lives, the daemons wait.
Blood soaked claws, shimmering eyes, waiting to devour all that’s left.
Nothing really matters anymore, there’s so little left behind.
So little to notice, nothing to be missed.
Wondering what would be there, what could be there?
Never mind, the silence is welcome, so familiar, the only thing I can count on.
There’s nothing there, there never will be.
Foolish hearts pretending to belong, wanting so much for nothing.
Nothing more than the pain to go away.
Nothing more than to see the shadows dance in their eternal play.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *