There is gravity. There is a pull. It is impossible to escape. It keeps coming back. It keeps sucking in.
It is dark; so dark. It comes slowly, creeps up, engulfs. It is always there, lurking in the back - waiting. And it calls. It whispers. Softly, so very softly. Insistent. Soft, but strong. Too strong. It cannot be fought. Only run away from. Every stumble makes it stronger.
There is only temporary relief. A Mindlessness. A blocking of view - but not closing of eyes, for darkness resides behind the veil of closed eyes. Sleep is worst. It is a cruel necessity that allows the darkness to take over - pushed into the abyss of torment where demons devour and chase.
The heart. The poor heart. Shackled in cold, dread and fear. Beating - crying out, loud - to no avail. The heartbeat, like a war drum; pounding, raising alarm. Alas, the only ears the siren reaches are deafened by the screams and wailing from within. It is futile. These are deaf, others are blind.
Deserter: Courage. Abandoned friend in the hour of utmost need. Why and how are not answered. Prayers and begging are wasted.
It cannot be explained, it cannot be shared. It would be easier to bear if there was someone to reach out to, to understand. Someone to take the extended, begging hand. To step forward and pull at the drowning weight. But no, there isn't. There is no lifeline. There is only shouts - of encouragement, cliches of hope and greatness. But their effect is not soothing. Only safety lies in silence - where there is no need to say or explain or pleading to understand. And in distance.
There are also gurgling noises, of the quagmire swallowing.
It is a lost battle. There is relief in giving up. There is a place beyond pain, where there is only acceptance.
There is comfort and companionship in the blanket of darkness.
It is dark; so dark. It comes slowly, creeps up, engulfs. It is always there, lurking in the back - waiting. And it calls. It whispers. Softly, so very softly. Insistent. Soft, but strong. Too strong. It cannot be fought. Only run away from. Every stumble makes it stronger.
There is only temporary relief. A Mindlessness. A blocking of view - but not closing of eyes, for darkness resides behind the veil of closed eyes. Sleep is worst. It is a cruel necessity that allows the darkness to take over - pushed into the abyss of torment where demons devour and chase.
The heart. The poor heart. Shackled in cold, dread and fear. Beating - crying out, loud - to no avail. The heartbeat, like a war drum; pounding, raising alarm. Alas, the only ears the siren reaches are deafened by the screams and wailing from within. It is futile. These are deaf, others are blind.
Deserter: Courage. Abandoned friend in the hour of utmost need. Why and how are not answered. Prayers and begging are wasted.
It cannot be explained, it cannot be shared. It would be easier to bear if there was someone to reach out to, to understand. Someone to take the extended, begging hand. To step forward and pull at the drowning weight. But no, there isn't. There is no lifeline. There is only shouts - of encouragement, cliches of hope and greatness. But their effect is not soothing. Only safety lies in silence - where there is no need to say or explain or pleading to understand. And in distance.
There are also gurgling noises, of the quagmire swallowing.
It is a lost battle. There is relief in giving up. There is a place beyond pain, where there is only acceptance.
There is comfort and companionship in the blanket of darkness.
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