I'm in a dark room,
The noiseless sounds make my ears cringe in the silence,
The emptiness a pressing entity.
The surfaces are sharp and cool,
A foreign substance to this world.
The dank smell is also sharp,
Like pointed daggers to the soul.
A bitterness fills my body,
A sour savory on my tongue.
Everything is thick and sluggish,
Even the candle burned out.
Black.
And yet--
There are shadows on the wall,
Dim silhouettes.
I can see a glimmer
Shining through the broken door.
It's still hushed.
It's still bitter.
It's still empty and thick and dark.
But not so dark.

I look at my broken light and think,
"I can fix that."