I woke one morning and could not see
My eyes were shut
Then to my astonishment
My sight came rushing back, surprising my hopeless life

For a moment in time, after my new outlook
Darkness came back
And I was much afraid
That it had returned, forever to bind me again

This burning question
Then possessed me
Can those in darkness truly come to light
If they still have flashes of their night?

I turned this over and over
Finally concluding they could
For Stockholm Syndrome
Is a reality

Those who live in darkness
For so long, are bound
To be shortly plunged back, inconsistently
Though they are free

I then realized
My fear in this troubling return
Had only existed for a time so short
And that I need not be afraid

For this is the cunning of the darkness
To make minutes, days
And hours, centuries
To twist the mind in an effort for control

For the darkness runs in deep rivers of the heart
And when light overwhelms
It is not eager to relent
But reluctant to loosen its grasp.

(theinkthatspeaks.blogspot.com)