"Out of dark matter the light will form; every trial has an expiration date."

Unbearable dark,
the kind that's pitch black;
inescapable.*
Fierce and formidable chaos
consumes everything.

On nights like these
I long for a piece of light,
peace of mind,
a sliver of moonlight
to gleam in the gloom;
an ending to long suffering.

To find shelter
in the open arms of hope,
uplift my soul,
I will cast my burdens
like stones into the riverside,
watch them sink out of sight.

Feast my weary eyes
on the bulb of fireflies,
let my mind break free
of impossibility,
explore the astral plane of dreams;
far from view
of obscene reality,
safe and secure,
knowing this too shall pass.

I will escape the empty glass,
elude the shadows overcast;
outgrow the dead grass.
No longer outcast
I will Breathe
and bloom again at last.
Outlast, the storm.