The Darkness Wins Again

My mind is in a cyclcycal state of desolate, stranded on an island without a raft. When the darkness returned, it had been so long since we last crossed paths as if I never knew you before. Yet your touch… so familiar. Your in my mind, cold grasp upon my soul. I attempt to scream “Be gone vile demon!” Yet the words won’t come out. 

Religion means nothing in deaths mind. Once he comes for you he doesn’t turn back. I shall hide in my dreams staying unaware of reality lost. If he penetrates my Sanctuary our only option is to take his hand as we cross the river of Lost Souls.

Deaths hand springs forth calming fears. His cold comes with comfort. Reaching my final resting place an empty Island were Souls eternity in my never-ending nightmare resting alone.

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