Night falls and peace staggers; it fails to hold its course.
In darkness, demons step forward to take their vigil,
forcing thoughts of beauty to cower in their holes.
Shrinking dreams and wasting visions see no choice but
to end themselves, choking on the fear that seeps from
growing weakness. The stillness of uselessness prevails.
Darkness. Scampering rats of thought. Every glimpse of every
failed moment. Each wrong word ever spoken. Darkness holds
There is no daybreak. There is no bright tomorrow. There is no
courageous hope. There’s only the profound fatigue that far
outweighs the exhaustion of a sleepless body and battered heart.
So feels darkness.
But light threatens; it threatens to show its face. Quietly at first,
with whimpers and whispers; then with more insistence; then
with the defiance of a grand fuck you.
It starts to glow, even behind dark clouds and the soak of rain
that’s drenched our reason. It won’t be denied. It raises its voice,
and reaches out with fists of flame, the primordial power of
universe, and splits clouds, and burns away the edges of fear.
It beams and boasts of something better, even in the midst of
whatever refuse happens to feel like home. It fuels, reminds, and
Peace finds its stride.
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