Interring Word

The darkness pools around me;A viscous, shadowed cloak that absorbs all but my loneliness.I am certain to drown unless she wrench mefrom myself. She, who slashed the blacknesswith great welts of light.With her merest of touches she could silence the demonsthat twisted my every thought.In the hollowness of night,when all is more real than it should be,she was the warmth that mellowed my qualms.Now, I clutch for something to holdas fear pulls me deeper underground,brandishing my body with lead weights.  How pitifully poetic one becomeswhen left with just themselves.It's as if the heart puts everything into its dying cries.The music of a martyred soul.