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Out of this darkness that is pushing down on me, someone come and take me for a blissful yonder,

I plead desperately into the abyss that are my eyes: please, someone save me,

I do not wish to continue any longer, but I still force myself to go on,

towards my perpetual demise,

but a darkness such as this, seem so lovely in contrast to my visions of the sky,

should I continue?

I feel everything around me, as if I am the everything,

I feel myself.

To desire something not darkness, is it an idiotic desire?

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

I can see it all with my eyes,

but I refuse to open my mind in trepidation,

will it happen again.

I feel that of me,

carrying me to a place I am unfamiliar,

is it a place devoid of darkness,

is it a place devoid of happiness,

is it a place devoid of devoid,

devoid as my own.

I know who you are,

so why cower within that,

the thing you enshroud yourself in,

does it feel good,

can I touch.

Touch the light that I don’t deserve,

a different kind of darkness,

light.