Darkness Enfold

As of late I feel drawn to the state of hopelessness. Its predictability is oddly comforting. I want to see the pattern of my demise, to hear my resolves echo alone in the dark.

Perhaps I’ve dug this hole to give myself the chance to climb, to ascend the dirt, to call in the warrior spirit and awaken an inconceivable inner power.

This cyclical movement towards shadow, surrounding my state of fabricated hopelessness, envelopes me in a darkness of my own creation, because I want to see a new form grow from the disassembled husk of my illusions. Invoking a rebirth from the ashes of my past self is the only way I see fit to move on.