Senses drift differently in the darkness.
I’ve grovelled and called out but to no avail.
No one has heard my cries, no one but me.
And my senses though sharpened grow weary.
In the darkness, no one sees your grief.
The shadow will be kind enough to hide you.
But is it really out of its good heart?
No, the shadow is selfish that’s why it keeps you.
In the darkness you won’t see anything but nothing
There you will drown in worry that you are about to fall
So you stay in place and not move
You wait for someone to guide you out.
Misery thrive in the night
It allows you to mull over things previously forgotten
It reminds you the pangs of your mistakes
It relives the hate, the fear and the longing
Senses are strong in the darkness
Sorrow most of all.