Eerie and desolate, I tread with trepidation,
Each step echoes a racing heartbeat, each step hesitant and unsure,
The path, shrouded in darkness, unwinding, utterly seducing,
Twisting, leading, pulling, to an unknown destination.
A creeping fear, a weight, heavy, suffocating, on my chest,
The burden of memories tearing away at my very being,
bloodied vines and wilting flowers break up the consuming darkness.
Intricately intertwined with a grotesque nature. It consumed parts of me I considered best.
This blanket of darkness forming a mound.
Pulling, gnawing away, the guilt kicking me, bloodied to the ground.
The misery a familiar companion, a distant reprieve,
As I step into the unknown, my heart no longer conceives.
Uncertainty grips me, a vice-like grasp,
As I venture ever onward, into the uncharted vast,
The echoes of emptiness, a haunting refrain,
A reminder of all that I will leave behind in vain.
Yet, I inch forward, withering and decayed,
Through the fear and overwhelming doubt,
For in the unknown, a foreboding destiny grips my intuition.
Dead souls swirled about, leaves in the wind. Just as quickly, they fade.
Chills caress my spine, eyes settle in the distance,
An enormous dark figure patiently awaits,
rejoicing at my suddenly reluctant gait.
Embodiment of menace, enveloping every sense with fear, dread, evoking resistance.
An attempt to scream, frustration, panic,
realization of complete immobility. I fight the urge to be manic.
My voice, taken with flowers, carried away with vines, forced silence.
I tremble at the increased awareness of potential violence.
I am forever bound by the darkness, a familiar companion,
Ink stained soul creating pigment for this vast, dark, expansion.
The darkness turns its forces on me.
No longer living, simply alive, this is what is meant to be.
Stunned, helpless, the path succeeding its takeover. I am deprived.
Here lies a fear struck servant to a nightmare that never seems to end.
A foreign, blood curdling, voice slowly calls out from the patient dark figure,
There you are, I’ve been waiting, look who has finally arrived.
Jolted, chilled, I am now awake.
In the night, a terrible fate devised.
Too terrified to sleep, too terrified to live.
My soul has been blackened. A heavy brand I feel as I wake.
Existing in the waking world, in the crevices of a horror dimension that is the mind,
My consciousness is safe, away from the turmoil and darkness of my subconscious mind.
I open my eyes, psychologically shaken,
I know now that one day I will be taken.
—
Sarah Fitzgerald is an avid lover of art in all its forms. As a writer and artist herself, she loves reading all genres, writing, painting, photography, film, and the art of gardening. She truly believes one can find beauty in everything. Her house is adorned with plants around every corner, creating a living and breathing atmosphere of comfort and life. She is a collector of board games and enjoys competitive Sorry! matches with her Husband. She often has her nieces and nephews over for all kinds of art projects keeping her reigning title as the “fun Aunt.”