There’s a shadow reaching to the sky. Dark and grey and undefined, cast by nothing. It’s conjured up by the blood of those hiding from the scream of their shame.
Up it rises. To cover the sun. Make day as dark as night.
Always night but no more stars. Terror ruins every dream. Chains like vines grow here. This is the perfect place to hide a blackened soul.
Pour your blood into the pot. Make the shadow thicker.
Give your soul its gloomy shelter.
I cower in darkness, hands bleeding.
Tied to the ground, weeping.
Where is my promised rest?
--- You should have seen my Mom’s face when she came home from the Christmas party. The kitchen counter was completely cleared off, every...
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