There are whispers.
To be heard.
Some that overwhelm giants.
Render firing lines paralyzed.
Even topple societies.
A single word from the right mouth.
Can be the sweetest honey ever tasted.
Or a slow acting posion.
One that can not be spewed from its entry wound.
A Feeling all too real.
That even imagination begins to bleed through.
Every pore.
Every dark pit.
Can not even fathom.
Its origin..
For the dark is where it came.
And so shall forever more.
Remain.