Murdering The Dark

Featured art by Markus A. Walter. Click title image to visit his studio.

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Goblin “Rebirth”

Darkness doesn’t frighten me
Not in the slightest
Now I might have sung a different tune if you’d have riddled me that a year or so back
But mine has been a gradual fade to black

It’s not that I lacked the tools to creep
More that I dared not venture off the weathered track for fear that I may not be coming back
For the thing about depression is that it tends not to act with any great amount of tact
Will cut no slack if you’re feeling less than chipper and is a stickler for reminding us precisely of the none too heartening facts

Life had not played fair and I had suffered more than my fair share of crushing disappointments
None of which made appointments I might add
To be brutally honest
I would have been glad to bow out then and save it the trouble of stacking the odds any higher than the very same ones I no longer backed
Couldn’t seem to trust the shadows with their creeping dread and sneak attacks
For the secrets they appeared to keep were not the kind to help one sleep at night
And this appeared to play straight into their clammy little hands

They’re called night terrors for a reason you know
Loiter with uncouth intent and their treason knows no bounds as any youthful innocence is given no safe place to go
Should you be feeling edgy then you bet they’ll provide you with a less than gentle push in the very direction you most fear to mention
Thus I felt well within my rights to host a dash of apprehension

And then there was She
The girl in my dream
The only one I don’t wake from in a cold sweat and with a frozen scream
Suddenly last winter
I began to see things differently
As our pasts were evidently ancient history and no longer were they shrouded in such mystery

It’s not that the mist began to clear
But we now had valid reasons to persist here in these vapors
Knew only too well of the shadows
And were wise to all their capers
The key difference now was that we’d taken a vow to tackle each of these umbrae together
Bound by a most curious tether of silvery ivy

We both knew precisely where this might lead
But it was She whose noble deed truly freed me from my manacles
“Weep not, O Love of mine!” she cried, ” at which point I began to profusely bleed
And the darkness which once had hung like mist became most tangible

We are ever so grateful for the dead
For they’re not nearly as hateful as has historically been said
Sorrowful undoubtedly but wouldn’t you be solemn if you’d spent the last two centuries neglected and forgotten?
Certain lost souls they find no rest

So it should come as no Shanghai surprise that they wind up somewhat tetchy
And yes there are a few whose cruel intentions tend to lend themselves to acting somewhat sketchy
But here’s the thing
greykeeper see no harm in that which others deem as foul
Indeed we happen to find them somewhat fetching

How deep into the fire clay are we actually prepared to drill?
We’d tell you but then we’d really have to kill you
Just for the thrill of seeing right through you
With Cimmerian Shade in our eyes as we do you
And just so you’re aware
Our alibi is foolproof
For we walk the left-hand path and this is why the darkness does not frighten
Therefore we shall leave it up to you to turn the lights on