In The Dark
written by: Amalia Tihon
I miss happiness
Almost like Orpheus misses Eurydice:
With the same fervour and a similar passion,
I go searching for something beyond ration.
I aim for the devils dancing in a circle
Around my grave, with me, sitting in the middle.
Still, inanimate and oh so cold
Pain spreading through my being just like mould.
They see me first and aim for my soul,
Making a feast for them all.
Tears turn into delicious treats
Each cut on my leg, the finest of the meats.
And here I lay
Lifeless and numb,
What’s left is nothing but a crumb.
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