January 4, 2012
By Anonymous

The Sun is going to bed:
She took her blanket of Light from my shoulders.
Exposed to the Cold,
I become as I once was.
Gone is the illusion,
for strength and bravery disappeared with the Light.

Dark lives in the corners:
He waits to strike.

Night comes,
She pulls me into a dance-
A waltz to start, simple and clean.
I hesitate, for Dark still lingers around the edges of the sparks Night has brought with her.
She pulls me into the dance, I follow her lead.
The music changes, sprouts wings and soars:
Our waltz becomes a samba, a salsa, the Charleston,
Morphing with the crescendos and key changes.
We stomp and spin wildly, screaming, leaping,
howling to the moon.

Leaping through the circle, the Night abandons me.
Dark has pushed her into the fire created by our madly moving feet.
He has taken her place.

Our fire is no longer Warm-
It is green and Cold.
Dark’s eyes glow with its light.

He grins and curls the smoke into his demons-
they prepare their wicked instruments,
tuned perfectly to create an orchestra of terrors
written with me in mind.

His drums beat a wild tattoo on my ears,
Drowning out any other sound.
He sucks up my fear like an alcoholic does cheap whiskey.
He chains me to the wall with his hissing threats
His claws ready to rip the last glimmer of joy from my chest
When I see his eyes:
Cold, green, empty.
He is nothing by the lack of Light.
I can see through his pupils:
their empty spaces hold nothing but my fear.

I smile, blink, and he is gone.
The Sun has given me back her blanket,
as Light chases Dark from the corners
and fills me with Warmth again.

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