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He Stalks the Inner Being of Time

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In the darkest pit lurks the most ruined life.
He stalks the inner being of time.
He is alone, and knows it bitterly true.
I pity him, and can relate with his ills.
For I too have lost much to his power.
Oh, how I'd love to face this wretch.
To combat him on a higher plane.
To engage him at his titillating game.

He reaches into my heart, and from out my desires he pulls my soul.
Naked and alone, I can not defeat you.
Darkness, you desire to consume me.
My tongue you wish to preach your hate.
You attack me, for you desire a vessel for your earthly work.
Nay, I deny you this.
But in truth, what defense have I?
To the divinity that swarms about me, I appeal, appeal.
But what cold, metal, embrace do I feel?

Wretch, craven, what business have thee here?
I desire love, but it feels as though it is beyond me.
Desperate, I pray for salvation from impurity.
Nay, better still, salvation from inequity.
For it is my falling short of your dreams that force you to force me to fall short of mine.
And in dreams, this wretch lives forever.

For dreams are but distant wishes, hopes for a brighter tomorrow.
And in these hopes darkness lurks; desiring to encumber he who dares to dream.
To inspect and infect him, inoculate him with all the ills and worries of fear.
And when the dirges of hope forgotten take their toll; he reaps, oh he reaps.
Up your back his fingers creep.
And he shushes, with a whisper; and you are alone again.

Wake up dreamer, there is no more time.
Make real that which you seek.
Then, and then alone, does the nightmare go away.

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