kirio-13

The moon is out tonight, the wolves howl in fright, a commotion in the twilight, a power in the darkness might, be the cause of pounding ears, and deep dark fears, that rise from the murky depths of the mind, whose path we may trace but never find. Can you see the trees swaying? Can you hear the hounds baying? Are they coming for me, or is it you they see? Whose dark secret have they found? Will it be you or me who is put under the ground? A knife, a flash, a scream, a dash. A giddy lightness, a terrifying sadness, a black brightness, a sane madness. I'm alive but should I be? I was sane, but would I be? I survived, but why

i started by brushing my fingertips along the ground. searching for something right. a dream, a story, a personality but all i found were twigs. so then i got a spade and broke along the skin. i searched for something bright. a city, an emotion, a tower but all i found were rocks. then i got my shovel and i dug a six foot hole but all i found were bodies of those who searched for more. so desperately i had clung to such a useless dream that i dug my own grave. and now i lay, wallow in filth, waiting to be dug up. because my dreams, my ideals, have proven themselves nonexistent.