Deep into the thrall that darkness brings,
The self-deprecating hatred burns impure.
Every emotion tainted in an bloodied frenzy.
And so we're running.
We can't breathe. Or feel.
But we can't stop either.
We can't remember if it's of our own will,
Or if the passion has overtaken our bodies.
But we move persistently.
Like someone is following us.
Chasing us. Stalking.
I hear a sound.
I turn around but all I can see is black.
And I reach for the hand beside me to find it is gone.
Then I'm standing still. Alone.
The penetrating sound of silence echoing violently in my eardrums.
And then I'm floating.
I can't remember.
But I can't forget.
Numbness sweeps my body, my soul, and my entire being.
I see softness and hard.
The delicate balance between the conflicting forces.
And as I reach my hand out -
I awaken.
And your hand is in mine.
I feel grounded.
Unsure, but powerful.
I propel us forward into nothingness.
And we outrun them.
Their eternal stillness fades,
And the darkness disintegrates in the light of the morning sun.
The sun projects it's influence in the world as the night is swept away.
But all I can feel is the heady weight of your hand in mine.
