There is no adequate way to describe pain. There isn’t a true photo that can show all the parts of pain. There is no video long enough to portray pain. There is no writing detailed enough to prove the power of pain. Not yet.

After all, how can you describe the feeling of black? The slimy, gunk that seems to be slapped across everything. How is seems to gleam like an asp, then dull like lead? It may be easy to display the feeling of pain, but what about the nature of it?

The way is seems to wisp itself through your hair, or how it oozes in between your lips, coating your tongue in its oily slickness. The way is may hang on your shoulders like a vampire’s cloak or how it holds you in its sharp arms, caressing you like its innocent infant.

How is it possible to describe pain?

How can an author wrap your mind around the stabbing, jagged shards of others’ pasts?

How can a director film the tears that are never shed, but are kept inside?
How can the artist paint the heavy colors of the darkness that devours the soul?
Is it even possible to know pain?
I have felt it. I know it.
I have seen its talons wrap around the tiny hearts of children, crying for daddy as mommy pulls them away. I have seen it bite on the flesh a weeping widow, whose love gave all for her safety. I have seen it dance around in delight as the broken girl cries in silence with her parents’ screams. I have seen it tickle the spine of a young boy, only wanting to be loved; but only finding hurt.
And I have known it for a long time. The shadows I know consider foes hide in my happiness, but show their disgusting faces in my misery. They leap and cackle as my shameful tears roll down my cheeks. They are only two steps behind my shadow; too far to be seen; too close to be forgotten. They toast my anger in the flaming pits, and cool my joy in the surf. They whisper lies and memories into my dreams, filling them with deceit and nightmarish things that should only exist on the screen.
I know these demons of the dark; I have seen their faces. I know the cruel way they steal your heart; then take so much more. These merciless beings slither like a python, then hum like a wasp. These riders of evil dance on the tombstones of my happiness; splash in the flood of my lost dreams. These lovers of black disguise their wolfish delight in the costume of a lamb.
So let it be known you seekers of darkness, you delighted living death; I have seen you. I know what you are and how to find you; and though many of my kin have fallen to your love and charm, I will not be next.
I know what it is to truly know pain; and I will be the first light in the dark for all my brothers and sisters who battle the demons of black.