Dark3


A city gripped by dark,

Light scuttled out

Sinking ship deserted.

Candles sputtered,

Pain like hot wax

Spat at random

On sweating streets,

Ice cold but fevered,

Hysteria coursing through the vein.

Hope hidden in a crumbling cellar

Struggled to keep its flame

Alight, a beacon bright and true,

For those that chose to see it

In the almost all

Consuming Dark.

© Greg Richards

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