Since I was a little kid
There was something
Deeply disturbing about
The attic at my parent's
It was chilling cold there
It made unnatural noises
And it felt like the walls
Were always watching

One night when I was 17
And home alone, I woke up
To what sounded like nails
Scratching the wooden panels
So at the top of my teenager
Stupidity, I took an old pistol
And went to check out what
Was going on there

I went upstairs, gun drawn
Just to have my jaw dropped as
I saw this slim and tall shadow
Standing in front of the fireplace
I stood there in utter shock for
What seemed like a lifetime
Until I gathered the courage
To ask: 'who are you?'

The shadow replied with
A deep and inhuman voice:
'I'm the demon that your
Grandfather brought with him
From the Great War in the east
From him, I passed down to your
Father and now the time has
Come for me to dwell in you'

In an adrenaline rush, I ran
Downstairs as fast as I could
Slammed my beedroom door
Locked it and barricaded it
But the demon wouldn't quit
He tried to break in, frantically
Pounding and screaming:
'Let me in, let me in'

Curiosity
from the depths it comes, expands.
Tears, joy, holy grail

How can you truly see darkness if you don't recognise it within yourself?
If it's denied or if we declare it's a place we'll never succumb to,
where does it go when we choose not to own it within?


So often we are afraid of the dark or what is perceived as such,
but how can we be scared of something we don't really allow ourselves to feel..
When this dimmer, blacker absorption also holds a light
it too holds a truth,
a potency that's thick at the bottom of our bellies
and it's linings are waiting to be known.
So why are we so hesitant to keep digging within the pits of all we are,
to hold and delve within a space that is just a denser shade of us.


The darkness absorbs and yet it exists  
as part of our (w)hole.
If we try to separate and ignore it how bright does our light truly shine?
The darkness lives and it can passionately love,
we just have to learn to see it's darker disguise.
When it rises heavily having felt and held so much in it's untamed years.
Who says that darkness is not just as bright as the light,
that it's also wise as well as reckless,
that it's blood bleeds the same,
that it's unknown or known doesn't touch as deep or feel as high...


I see in the light too and the light has at times blinded me,
and has led me like an addiction.
I saw that such a light can be even darker than night
casting us in it's shining.


What if within the pit of our deepest darkness we also house the brightest light
and at the pinnacle of our light....
our deepest darkness can also shine bright?