I am not afraid of the dark.
I can walk blindly strongly believing that I only have a cinch of chance to stumble and fall.
I can lurk anywhere without questioning history and all the secrets buried in it.
Behind my camouflage is raw and naked.
Beneath the hollow patches of happiness and glory is grief.
All that lingers upon mourning strips of paper from letters that I have ripped,
That which contain lies of loving confessions from mouths that spit them,
Are thoughts that my heart could never ponder, grasp or process.
Ages fly and the skins get wrinkled,
But the wrath of sadness still lingers most of the time.
Sometimes when i get tired, I lean on a broken wall,
I question my existence and blame the rain for it.
Sometimes i feel like caged in an ocean of people,
Those who say are always there, but never were.
Sometimes I ask myself, "Who are you? What are you? What do you want to do?"
Though I only get a stinging reverberation from the painful and heavy throbbing of my head.
Then I turn on the light,
Trying my best to look brave and bright,
Only to find out that underneath the velvet darkness,
My shadow has been watching me all this time.
