The darkness comes in gentle waves
Like a mournful sea at ebb tide.
It comes in wisps like smokey sighs
Wafting from a deserted fire.

The darkness seeps into the spirit
Like a leaking, unattended faucet.
It arrives in plain brown wrapping
Tied with twisted, knotted string.

The darkness sings a plaintive tune
That echos in the vastness.
It weaves a heavy coverlet
That blankets any hope of light.

The darkness didn’t have to be
Why ever did I let it in
ljm