Abound in drifting dust, cast messages of the damned,
And stories never told,
And things never thought.
Ideas, profound and moving ideas,
Ideas that could make grown men weep,
Ideas that have made me weep with unabashed joy and sorrow alike.
Yet, here I sit, struggling to release my inner demons,
Battling internal wars that I have waged against myself, my enemy, for millennia.
Thinking, but not speaking.
Crying, but shedding no tears.
There is a darkness, darker than dark, that has settled over our hearts.
I believe deeply and truly that you sense it.
Detecting its omnipresence,
Feeling its cosmic weight,
Tasting its metallic taste,
Or maybe not.
Maybe the darkness isn’t that at all, maybe the light just isn’t as bright as we remember.
Or maybe we don’t remember anything at all, maybe there is nothing left to remember.
This is a cause and it pains us,
A root of cynicism and apathy
And Oh. My. God.
There are many, the opportunist, who feed on such decay.
Fear not the demon whom you recognize as such.
Certainly, a devil’s horns can cause you no harm. No pitchfork may pierce the righteous.
But the savior?
The savior must save, we cling to such salvation.
Unquestioning, she stands opposed, smiling radiant beams of hope.
We run to the protection of her outstretched arms. We taste the metallic taste of darker dark.
And the sun is blotted.
And the Son is gone.
The devil will come offering salvation, but she will sell you to those with sharpened teeth.
And for the many, like us, who fight the power of this hidden oppressor?
When she turns her head to devour us,
And pray to God she chokes.