"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.