In The Shadow of Twinkling Lights
Feel The Wind Bash against the House
A Violent procession which shakes the walls and all their fixtures.
Here I sit comfortably Numb, accosted my artificial light twikers bringing forth a very real twlight.
Soon I'm sure the wind will prevail in its onslaught, Hushing the warmth and comfort of my lamp away from me like a lovers last breath.
What will become of me when these lights die out? Ripped from me like babes from mothers tits during plague.
Will I sink into the Darkness? Be overwhelmed by the sure completeness of it?
Will I sob Gently in my Leather Chair, Afraid of the beasts which lurk no where but my minds eye?
Hear the Laughter of the Wind as it crashes against my Barrier
A cold yet full roar which breaks past the layers of wood and glass which protect me.
Here I sit open to it, Knowing that if my comfort is to be stripped from me that I will take its comfort instead.
Let the wind brush away my fake affections, Let it usher in the dark which shall know me as its greater.
What will become of the Darkness when the lights go out? Ushered into a room with only me to feed upon.
Will the Darkness be overwhelmed by my imbalance? Confused that something so whole can come in so many parts?
Will the Backbiters which it calls from the curtains behind my conscience be afraid for their backs to be bit?
As Man accepts the Fears of Darkness, Does Darkness Fear the Man which does not accept it?