Drifting by as slow as eternity
until they are gone before realization sets in.
One after another they come and go
bearing gifts of pleasure and pain
upon tendriled hands that move like a mist.
As you breath to live,
it enters your lungs and swirls
before seeping into your blood.
It rides the life flow to your brain
and fills your mind with images to make you smile and cry.
Visions in a blackness
quietly breeding emotions
and attempting to seize control of you
with an onslaught of confusion
like a bursting sack of tiny spiders.
Joy, sadness, anger, compassion, strength, and fear
a dozen times over swarm around you
as you sit alone in a shadow.
Love is your salvation, hate is your undoing,
loneliness is your keeper, and despair is it's master.
Despair wants the slow death of your soul.
It comes as a thick, black, fleshy mass
that wants to see your empty eyes sink into its boggy mire.
Despair would have you as its own,
but control is where you give it,
and you do not relinquish it so easily.
You do not run.
You do not cower.
You stand and paralyze it with a piercing stare.
With faith as your armor and hope as your blade, you take it.
Clutch it.
Embrace it.
Slice it open, and watch it bleed.
Reach into its gaping wound,
and grasp its cold and numbing entrails.
Lick its icy blood from your fingertips while looking it in the eye.
Walk into its boggy mire until you disappear,
and then walk out again laughing.
Despair is yours to do with as you wish.
Visit it, talk about it, be inspired by it, use it, but never ignore it.
You are still in the care of its servant.
Loneliness watches over you until love finds you.
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