To the Endless Night

Run. Run to the guarded abyss of deafening blackness.
Run. Run to the beginning of forever and the end of never.
Run. Run to the death of humanity, birth of insanity.

Run. Run to the empty chasm that is silence.
Run. Run to the disappearing warmth and the appearing chill.
Run. Run to the welcoming dark, leap into infinity.

Run to the endless night, embrace its intricacy.
Run to the endless night, admire its delicacy.



The lonely creature.

The light reflects off of its face with a gleaming shimmer that can only be expressed as the released concoction of sunlight and moonlight with the glow of fireflies and the warmth of a candle in a dark room.

Yet there is a darkness in which it hides, peeking its eye out to glance at the world in which it does not belong. To glance at the hopeful surroundings in which it will never belong. To listen to the laughter it will never have. To listen to the subtle hum of people bumbling about, accomplishing tasks that it will never have.

There is no solace in the darkness yet no joy in the light. Alone in the dark. Alone in the light. Alone in the peaceful morning. Alone in the ravaging night. Alone in a crowd. Alone when alone.

It is a lonely creature in a lonely world. It is a lonely creature in a painful world. It is alone but perhaps it is better this way.


A simple person standing there.

A simple person, a simple stare.


No oddities or quirks.

No achievements nor ingenious works. 


A grey suit, grey tie.

Grey socks, knee high.


Red flashes of satin sashes.

A fragment of life in a field of ashes.


A whisper here, a smile there.

She has broke the endless stare.


Her name, imagination.

Her goal, transformation.


Her warmth has melted the frozen frown.

Her presence lifts up the man, once down.


“Be free” she whispers subtly. 

“Embrace imagination and live, happily”.


Grey to blue and grey to red.

Color filled the man, once dead.


The absent stares fade.

A loving gaze instead was made.


A tiny spark of imagination

An everlasting mark