Only few know of the agonizing pain that darkness brings.
I am of those very few.
This shroud of all horrors engulfs the embers of my soul’s remains.
My world, though a tormenting fantasy, is my only escape.
The cruel realities of this world are outmatched by my own.
The mind, so twisted in its ways, never ceases to amaze me.
Images of the most gruesome, most grotesque ways of death, curse mine.
Blackened memories stained with corruption linger.
My sorrow, colder than any winter in existence, has the reins of my poor soul.
My fury lies in the deep, earthen veins of every dormant volcano.
My happiness, a pile of simmering ashes set aside with resent.
My world consists of constant, ominous storms across a valley surrounded by wintry peaks.
A permanent, unforgiving, bleak winter…
The only sound; forsaken wails of the child left behind.
