The days I spent living my life in the shadow of another are wasted.

Why must I skulk in the shadows while you get to walk in the light?

Is it possible that perhaps I was never meant to be seen, to be noticed?

The darkness is cold and lonely.

I am friendless for no one wants to be the friend of darkness.

I am filled with agony and grief.

Why must I remain alone?

Is this punishment for existing?

I grow tired of fighting the darkness.

My body begs me to give up and be consumed by the darkness.

Why do I continue to fight?

The outcome is inevitable; I should just succumb to the darkness.

The black blood covered hands of darkness pierce my skin.

My blood coats the old.

The loss of blood causes my body to become lifeless.

I am drowning in darkness 

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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