There is a darkness within my soul, and it pulls me. I am drawn to its scent, magnetized by its force. The darkness surrounds me and the harder I fight the darker it grows. I may light a candle, but it eventually burns out. And it’s all dark again. Pitch black. Dark black. Night black. Darker than it was before, like each candle stick fuels the darkness. The darkness pulls me even further within it and parts of me are becoming shadows. The candle sticks are not working and my being is delving into this infinitely pool of cosmic darkness that quenches sun rays.
So I may either pray, hope for my savior and get out of the darkness or give in to the darkness and hope for my savior. But one thing remains for sure, the darkness never stops growing darker.
It never ends.
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