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I find it hard to write of the light,
darkness has set its roots into me,
I want to write of the light,
but the stain, the shadow haunts me.

The problem is this: my words do not come at will,
only at the beckoning of fierce emotions,
my joy is forever diminished by pain,
all light is shadowed,
dulled, made useless.

I know I am not the only sufferer of this affliction...
yet that offers little consolidation
to one who loves the light, but belongs to the darkness.
To whom may wish my death,

I ask of you one request.
Take me to the edge of a cliff,
Where land and sea's, and windy breeze,
Sing together silent harmonies.

There I stand staring at the sunset,
Peacefully breathing, embracing my death.
As I take my first step,
You fiercely push me over the edge.

I'm finally free falling,
as the sun slowly sets,
As I draw my last breath,
The image of a perfect world, is
Imprinted in my eyes.
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