Without Light

I am here standing in the darkness.

It is pitch black and cannot see a thing. 

I stretch my hands feeling for something, anything.

I hear a blood-curdling scream that sounds like a high pitched whistle. 

Then I realize that that one blood-curdling scream came from my lips, 

and I wish I 

could take it back. 

I am digging, reaching around.

I pull at my clothes tearing holes in them, trying to escape from my 

mind.

I wish on my soul, and all that I have in me to get me out of here. 

I scream like a lion, lunging for its prey.

Did the devil do this deed?

The darkness seeps in, tearing my soul apart, even though I feel nothing. 

I can smell the foul odor making me gag towards the blackness beneath 

me.

I see nothing like a mole digging in the ground for a way out.

Yet, I have hope.

I have hope that the darkness will soon become light, because darkness 

cannot live without light. 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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