Never

I am being consumed by the darkness it wears me like an overcoat on a frosty night warming me need to stay warm it only seams to know my desires that part of me that strays or sneaks out through the window that part that avoids the sermon or stomps it's feet cause he wasn't allowed to watch the omen I am consumed this dark is like a 
silent friend or a wrong turn a page missing from the good book a light 
bulb flickering the only candle in the 
house this dark talks only when 
calling your name and if it calls 
twice then that is considered 
friendly it knows no right and sees 
only loss it's fear is nothing but a 
good dream it's wing is old and 
tattered and it thinks this dark is 
alive and has been for centuries 
alone in the mirror waiting for the 
end that will never come never 
holding but scratching never 
walking besides only here and no 
more why did you not listen what 
was it that you saw when you retreated was it brighter warmer?

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