My screams, fiercely and recklessly,
****** themselves into the starless sky.
Howls of despair became an inviting try.
It is fearfully unknown who or what may answer
from the den of the lachrymose night.
It's a different world in the charged absence of light.

The ghosts of my cries reverberate in heaven's valley,
and long linger down hell's burnt alley's.

Long before I knew self love would heal my life.  
Annihilate my strife.
A dawning of hope now veins my soul with the missing light.