Whispers from shadow call my name, Beckon me to sleep. Like a moth to its flame, I dance around its light. Curious to its purpose, never satisfied.
When reaching towards the sun, I'm dragged down to the depths. Mute of light, devoid of color. Depression sinks in. Silence resumes, the whispers cease. I am alone.
Sleeping, dreaming.
Ignorant to the world, dumb to the truth. Dull are my senses, comatose. The only company beside the black space are the echoes of my tormented former physical form. Lost am I in the city dolent. Now sibling to those damned by the adversary of evil. And unto me, a feeling of relief. Death hath released me. I am free.