A shadowy, dark hand,

reaching, seeking, grasping at loose threads,

Those long, boney fingers creeping,

forever gaining distance, falling short, not dead.

In the shadows it waits,

those deepest and darkest fears used as bait.

A cycle never ending, never truly ceasing,

help; you ask for help weary, tired, broken,

You in a desperate wail, "How do I fight? When does it end?"

no answer immidiate and no rescue forseeen

Please fall silent, tears go unnoticed,

hope once held now lost in the dark.

Once fought, now back again,

Shadows tauning and reaching back to you.

It's back,

that dark, shadowy hand,

Its sitting, waiting, held out to you,

the temptation sitting in wait for you to grab ahold

To grasp temptation or fight once more,

step forward or stumble back.

The choice is yours, what does your future have in store?