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Literature Text
For some sorrow is not just an event
It is a place they spend their entire lives
Tears and loneliness their endless lament
In a darkness where their agony thrives
Walking their tormented path of pain
Their eyes are empty, their voices hushed
Continuing onward with nothing to gain
Souls too twisted and hopelessly crushed
Unreachable now because they are lost
Ghostly shells that creep along the night
For them this is what living has cost
Drained of hope there is no reason to fight
It is a place they spend their entire lives
Tears and loneliness their endless lament
In a darkness where their agony thrives
Walking their tormented path of pain
Their eyes are empty, their voices hushed
Continuing onward with nothing to gain
Souls too twisted and hopelessly crushed
Unreachable now because they are lost
Ghostly shells that creep along the night
For them this is what living has cost
Drained of hope there is no reason to fight
Literature
When I was a child, I was afraid of ...
When I was a child, I was afraid of walking home alone in the dark. In the winters, especially, just walking home from school was something that truly terrified me. It terrified me, as I was a child with a great imagination. Not seeing what was around me in the woods I would have to walk through to get home only made it worse. Because even when I couldn’t see, I could still hear and I could still feel. I could hear every little noise that was created by something out there. I heard the wind rustling the trees, the crunching of snow under my boots, and that godforsaken rumbling and rustling I would never know the origin of.
During my lo
Literature
Naming Shadows
“There is only one good, knowledge, and one evil, ignorance” – Socrates
When I was small and the chains binding my soul to this body weighed on me heavily. I believed I had a memory of a wonderful place, a place full of light and soft things to sleep on and to cover the body. There was love too from figures much taller then I with hands not too soft or firm. As I grew and the chains that bound my soul seemed to lessen and that impossible memory began to fade until it became a forgotten dream lost in the dark places of my world.
I am not alone. There are others
Literature
Under My Bed
Midnight calls, eyes close,
Fear overtakes my sanity,
These voices are real;
in the closet-under the bed, everywhere,
I can hear them breathing;
Calling me into their realm,
I try but cannot see them,
I just know they are here taunting my every thought,
tormenting me about life, deeds, even misdeeds,
Their laughter fuels my tensions,
My pulse quickens as I am in their sway,
paralyzed, I cannot move,
My body consumed by the black,
My gasps fall on dying lights,
This could be my last breath,
Please, Constance, enter my dreams,
Please, save me.
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For those who are lost
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Comments5
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Absolutely beautiful. Describes my....situation exactly.