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Dec 2015
Pitch black comforts usually fade into darkness
Such an irony that presents an enigma
Here to welcome you to the dark side of matters
A reflective one with all faults in his stars
One to wonder if he left his mind too early
Into a forgotten landscape of manipulation
For him too talented to simply observe the world around
Pulling the strings speaks much more pleasure
For one too bored by the concept of simplicity
Chaos must ensue for his talent to shine
Shadows must lurk for his hear to beat
People must suffer for his eyes to open
Control is the name of the game
Over on the dark side of matters
"Evil" doesn't explain the confusion within
But rather just labels without knowing
His heart made of thin glass
Only looking for love
Always in the wrong places
The one thing he can not manipulate
Will haunt him forever
The heartbeat now dissipates
Because his heart existed never
Darkness aids my pitch black comforts
A true enigma that speaks irony
Here to bid farewell to the dark side of things
And into a barren field so blue in color
Yet so gold in elegance

I stood inside the pitch black room
Windows and doors lined the walls
Different colored lights streamed through
Each hole in the wall a new place
Some were locked and barred down tight
Others ajar and welcoming
Some doors rusted and hard to move
A few windows cracked and old
I stood there thinking
Pondering
Which doors I should see
What windows could possibly be
The exits to this room
Keys of all sizes covered the floor
Some were easy to find
Others heavy and cold
And for some I knew which key went where
But others Iā€™d have to try over and over again
The room grew dark as I stood
And keys began to disappear in the dark
Windows shut and doors slammed closed
It was time to leave my little room
I looked about and dropped to my knees
Rummaging through the pile
The darkness crept faster and faster
Seeping in like liquid
But then in an instance
I heard a voice
A faint calling from a window
With panes of pleasant wood
And as I neared it slowly creaked
Beckoning me to follow
A warm calming air came out from the crack
The key was already in its place
A key of bronze and solid build
I gripped the edge and swung it open
Just as the pitch black darkness enveloped my room
And I lunged
Right though that small window
Where I found the most lovely field and sky
With people Iā€™d never met but knew from long ago
A field of teeming blues
A field of royal gold

The perfect way two stories could be told.
E
Dr O
Written by
Dr O  United States
(United States)   
367
 
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