I Will Sit In My Darkness
I will sit in my darkness.
If black is the presence of all colors,
Then perhaps it is the entire presence
Of the entire mind,
A consciousness left to condone
With the ever-present subconscious of whiteness.
There is no disappointment
In staining dark with light,
Like a dirty t-shirt with clean bleach stains.
Joy has been stolen far too many times
For me to trust full brightness.
There is a mystery here,
Countless ones, for that matter,
Wonders and wonders of what is,
What is not,
And what can be,
As well as how they all do,
Or do not, exist.
I see only blank stares
And empty minds with white.
Now if I may, I should like to ask an honesty:
Be you friend or foe?
Your ignorance to true acceptance
Is an erupting volcano
In my ever-processing mind.
Your glowing bubbles burst
Crimson indignation in my face,
The carbonation a sick awakening.
I have to say,
I rather relish in the challenge.
And you will not
Understand me, my friend,
If you consider me a freak,
A demon who dwells in black and red
Because Hell is my rumored home.
I am no deity’s martyr of any kind.
I AM darker than you, but
In this way,
I have reached
And let me just say this:
I believe in the balance of the two,
The yin and yang,
A representation of interdependence.
You cannot know joy without grief,
Nor love without hate,
Nor appreciation without envy.
It would be hard to wake without morning
And sleep without dusk,
Or to play in the sun at day
And dream in slumber without night.
And though I appreciate the beauty of gray,
One cannot know light without dark.
I will sit in my darkness,
But still, I will promise to look toward your light
From time to time.