A landscape of my own
The journey from darkness to light
Through the windows of the train
I cut through mountains
I don’t move mountains
I cut through them
It’s pitch dark like a black hole
And I’m searching for the light
Ignoring this wander is just me
becoming whole
Getting out of this tunnel
Is such an ordeal
As I absorb the shadow
I begin to heal
The time is slow
The earth is low
It takes so long
To get to know
Immersed into the black depth
I become the night
And suddenly, a fire
Right before my eyes
I used to be someone
I escaped to become
A landscape of my own
Every journey is solitary
Darkness is my uniqueness
About the Creator
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Tortured Soul
The soul careened blindly through a void where it scraped against the walls of a narrow tunnel, amassing a cumulative friction that created all the heat the devil would ever need to torment it. There was no light at the end, not even a fire. From the bottom a cold wind blew, and the clash of extremities spawned vapors of terror in the deadened and numbed appendage that was this strange, delirious, drunken consciousness.
By C. Rommial Butler6 days ago in Fiction
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