Looking for Light

It seems we are doomed to watch

the way mankind ravages itself, tearing and yanking

blowing holes in itself until

the Titanic could float better than it.

 

we see the

kidnappings and

rape

wars and bombings and terrorism

death

prejudice and hatred

the accident of living every day

and the way we keep

putting one foot in front of the other without testing the ground.

one of these days we will lose limbs.

 

the darkness encroaches,

sinewy arms reaching toward unexpected targets

blood trail glowing in darkness

and I see a glimpse of light miles off

 

the darkness seems even darker because of it

seeping through my body

I see the people around me

slowly back towards the ray of light 

chunks of the whiteness break off and the arms reach, hungry for more

I turn and run for the spot

I know I have to look for it

that I have to look for the sunshine because

 

if I don't the hands will get me

the voices will talk and talk until

they morph into the people around me.

the arms will tear apart every last shred of life

everything within reach

if I stay here.

 

so I sprint for the light, that speck in the distance

legs and lungs burning, stumbling over rocks and logs and hidden monsters

splotches of sunlight peek out from unexpected places on the way

they cower in the shadows

I learn to look for them, my eyes attuned, gasping for the air of light

after a bit it comes easier.

I'm looking for it, so the light shows up.

 

that's what I need: that sunlight

the looking for the good things.

if I don't,

if I look at the darkness and let it rule

if I bow to a Dark King sitting on a dark throne made of  

ash and bones of dreams and life itself

if I don't

I will become it

I will consume the darkness and then I will be the beast with the arms

reaching out into abyss around me and I will

consume everything.

destroy everything

pull it in

and add to my own darkness until it is an inverted fire

black hole that slowly peels off my humanity

 

but there - in the sunlight -

it's beautiful. there is night, but it's different from the dark.

it's full of stars and beauty. you can see the moon

edge of mountains against midnight blue sky

rush of cool air from a whispering stream

the call of an owl, unconcerned questioning.

 

the daylight -

oh -

the sun pours over everything, bathing it in its light

it's oil

it soaks into things, into me,

turning my skin dark, and my mind happy

it presses into my brain, white light and big windows

makes truth visible

 

the night is not so scary during the day

so I soak in the good things

the happy things

I tuck them away in hidden pockets and secret passages until

I have armories stocked, brimming,

bustling with light

 

when the darkness comes again, arms and hands and

screeching growls that reek of rotting flesh of the previous day

 

I pull out a bit of light, and I throw it to the darkness,

walk away. listen to the way it dissolves the beast from the inside out,

 

leaving a flower in the sidewalk

all I need is light.

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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