Amidst a darkness
so cold and so malicious,
sits and stares the tormentors
of my own soul.

Shivering and sorrowing -
leaving behind permanence
and warmth's comfort.

Each word spoken, a wound -
painfully deep and festering.
Faithfully in attendance,
a shadow's depth
creeping up, and in, my seizing brain.

Losing love, losing hope -
losing the echo of your own heartbeat.
For in grief,
even love seeks no bounds,
seeks no solace in fading lights.

Though no fallacy be spoken in abundance,
sorrow speaks louder than words.
My light has left,
and the evils are now present.
Help me, i beg.
Help the mutilated soul.