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Zombie Sammael
03-24-2012, 03:53 PM
Neither fiction nor not.

There is a darkness at the bottom of the soul. It lies there, waiting for all of us. Doctors call it depression, and prescribe pills for it; tiny fragments of false light. Many descend into it. Many do not survive.

The darkness is all consuming. Its tentacles, like those of some malevolent chaos god, reach into every facet of its victim's existence. They bring night to day, darkness to light. They turn men into vampires, sleeping all day, fearing the sun. They turn women into ghosts, a palpable absence within their own lives.

Rage brought me there, I am sure of it. Rage, and betrayal. But those are merely names of the paths toward it, and they are far from the only paths. In my case, rage burned for years and years, until it finally burned out and turned to ashes, ashes that were quenched by tears and stamped upon by thwarted ambition. Ashes, and darkness.
But not every ember was stamped out. Rage brought me to the darkness, and rage freed me from it. Anger is a positive emotion; it spurs action. Often destructive action, but what of it? The chaos of life does not require that things be preserved; indeed, that is the domicile of order, and of death - and yes, of the darkness.

For that darkness is like the precursor to death. It is the death of the soul, and of the self. Some believe that a person without a soul is a person deprived entirely of morality, but that is not the case. Psychopaths are without morals, and yet they are capable of action; unlike a person whose soul has been consumed by darkness. Such a person is a shell, often rendered incapable of the slightest action. Often, though, tiny sparks of the light remain; often only enough to animate the self to destruction, but sometimes enough to bring about survival.

Fire requires heat, fuel, and air. So too does the human soul. Every one shall burn out eventually, if it is not snuffed out.
It has been a long time since I descended into that darkness. Helped by fragments of false light; warmed by other flames, fuelled by my own rage, and desperate from breath, I struggled out. I came back to life, back to self. Back to chaos. I am thankful for it.

Still, there are times when I know the darkness is there, waiting for me, just out of sight, waiting for me to switch out the light. It is there in the middle of the night when I wake up needing the bathroom, and I thank God (or whatever) that the clock does not read 4:48. It is there when I look at the calendar and wonder where the month has gone, and when I look at my bank balance and wish the month would go. It is there, too, in the roads and alleyways of my town when I walk the streets after dark. It hides behind sodium lights and calls to me in the sound of the wind.

It is seductive, that darkness, and it is terrifying. It is fear, and it does not hate me. It wants me, wants us all to go to it, to be destroyed by it. And the worst part is, I know that someday I shall.

For there is something else in that darkness, something more than death. Its song is a lament, but it is a siren singing it. In the darkness lies destruction, yes, but worse, more terrifying, is the knowledge that in that darkness lies power.

The Unreasoner
03-24-2012, 04:04 PM
I have met this dark beast many times...

One theory a friend posited was that it is a sort of defense mechanism: we fear the embers, or rather the fire they may start, and so we stamp them out. The paths you spoke of don't always lead to darkness after all. The ice of death and the hellfire of life lie not far apart as we walk through to the as sirat.

final death
03-26-2012, 12:22 PM
The darkness you speak of i have also met though it comes in many forms. Once i was told i had a incurable mental disorder. In the long process of accepting it i fell into the darkness. When i came back i was not quite my self.
Now for the poetry
Fire and light beget shadows and darkness
flickering flames life gives off
Darkness is that which can not die
shadows exist in the world and in us
all light is false as is proven when it dies
fire and light beget shadows and darkness
On another note only the person fighting it can decide whether life is worth living. as long as there is a single thing you can hold onto a shred of hope for better times and grass that's greener over the next hill you will not die. You can not die.

Figbiscuit
03-27-2012, 07:27 AM
Chilling. I like it. The subject matter resonates well and I like your style.

Zombie Sammael
03-30-2012, 11:33 AM
Thanks for the kind words, all of you. Fortunately, this is not how I feel these days, but last Saturday whatever muse works on these things decided it was time I could write about it. It never was quite how I felt, hence why it's not quite non-fiction.