It was a dark and dour place,

A kind of checkerboard laced with millions of gray shades,

As if to prove there is no such thing as black and white,

At some point all the squares blurred into one,

But that place was unidentifible from where it stood,

It was a small and slender thing with transparent beauty,

Not ugly in anyway, yet more honest than right,

Seeing through the flourescent being that it was,

You would see a jumble,

Flecks that seemed to be madly wandering throughout the being,

Looking for a way out,

It was solid and held in the reluctant movers;

They squirmed and nicked at the edges,

But it did not give way, it stood on,

My fascination grew with the being within the being,

The blobs were spindles of minds long gone,

Secrets and feelings that held little relevance to each other,

Some were opulent and grand,

Others were horrifying,

Dark things that fogged up the inside of the being,

When the greater of the ideas were thought of the being got brighter,

It grew hair, and a face, a body, and hands,

It glowed and prospered,

Yet when the disturbing spindles arose in the being;

The thing began to wither,

Wither and fold in on itself from the inside,

It ached and cried, yet kept them in,

Startling how alive the stolid being was,

The poor being was trapped in the center of this land,

Amongst the ground there was a box,

Inside that box, another box,

It pulled box from box searching for something,

But it never came, only more boxes,

With each box I lost a little more faith, a little more determination,

This simple exercise of revelation eating away at me,

Slowly pulling the most delicate of emotions,

There even came a point when I lost all,

I could feel the box,

But I no longer cared,

I could see the way out,

But I no longer dared,

I was numb in every sense of the word,

I walked around looking for the being,

Yet it was lost to me,

I wandered in circles before I found where it had stood,

The ground had made it hard to find,

For it all looked the same,

Closer and closer I walked until I saw it,

It stood there, beautiful, staring at me,

This creature did not care,

This creature did not fear,

This creature no longer had any light,

This being felt no love, it kept it out,

This being felt no joy,

I wanted to destroy it,

To hide this monster I created,

To yell and scream at its lost hope,

I got closer and closer,

Until, suddenly, it rippled and my feet were cold,

Water was seeping through my toes,

I reached down and water ran through my fingers,

And then it began to rain where I was,

Tiny drips fell into the water at my feet,

My tears adding to the puddle,

I was the beast,

The beast in the beauty,

The lost hope,

Maybe that's why I choose to hide,

To forget,

Sometimes the truth is too hard to bear,

So I simply forget.