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Writer's pictureSam John

Poetic Prose: The Darkness

The Darkness.


I’ve been asked. Why do you choose light?

I ask myself this question more times than I care to count.

The darkness calls to me. It wages war to overwhelm me.

It thrives in this world. It thrives in people. It thrived in me.

It craves for the time when I embraced it and allowed it to destroy me and those around me.


I won’t lie to you. I crave for those times, too.

I crave for them and realize the results of its symbiosis with my light.

It didn’t cooperate with it. It overwhelmed it and crushed it.

And it felt good. For a moment.

Taking the assumptions and finally giving into them.

Not fighting how people perceived me to be.

Embracing it.

Being the person they always thought I was without ever giving me a chance to be greater.


And it felt amazing. For a moment. And then it overtook me.

I left ashes and pain and brutality in my wake.

And swore to never don the darkness again. It is a part of me.

In my broken humanness. It will always be a part of me.

I can’t escape it. But I can choose. Everyday. Every moment. To be greater.

Darkness cannot be turned off. Darkness can only be overcome by the gentle nudges of the light.


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