The day is done and here I sit.
Slayed embers stirred to fire;
Sir Darkness; his cloak, a decadent array, on which
the screams of scars (however old), and
the power of pain (returned to broken).
Truths’ steady hum, weakened.
The soft purr of remedy and release,
Perpetrated pain~relinquished by~the self-inflicted?
Am I worthy of the light before me;
or deserving of the darkness behind me?
For those blind to this disparity, the answer is easy.
For “us” it is;
a shocking and profound
WORTHY and worthless
Which will you choose?