The darkness is an entity
In itself, my friend.
It comes whether we request it
Or not.
These streetlamps lead the way home –
The way to freedom,
Or only to more captivity
By rules and obligations
Rather than bars.
It’s all the same, always the same.
Life is not about change
But about self-adaptation
To a contortion of familiarity.
We are alone, yes –
But only because we choose to be,
And alive only for lack
Of attempting otherwise.
What are you afraid of, friend?
Life is what you make of it.
It’s not your fault
That your mind knows
Of better times, of sweeter days;
The human mind necessitates dream.
The darkness is an entity
In itself, my friend.
It requests from you
Little but tolerance.
We only see as far as we look,
As far as these streetlamps illuminate,
As far as
We’re willing to blindly leap.
What are you afraid of, friend?
The darkness contains
Nothing more vile
Than the human mind.
