Writing Prompt

I dreamed a nightmare that captured my soul. Not understanding, it burned as coal.

Awakened, distressed, began to ponder, What had become of this place and yonder?

The angels manifest goodness and kind, The demons ranted from out of their minds.

People, all people, were crazed and confused, Angels were hated and devils amused.

The people captured, the demons had won. Their minds were twisted, and they were undone

The multitudes wailed, and millions did sing; Good was now evil, and badness was king.

Men and women are lost, the die has been cast; Has Satan won the battle at last?

(Romans 10:13 - Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord Jesus will be saved.)

Do not resent the night, Though there is much to fear of the unknown, There are some things about the darkness that are not so foreign to us.

For instance, we know that its velvet canopy visits us each and every night, Enveloping our bodies and our homes in its dark embrace.

Is that not enough to trust it to keep us safe? So open armed is this pitch nothingness that even in death, When our bodies decay and our minds lose their spark, This darkness is the only thing willing to embrace us still.

Sarah Johnson stood staring at the entrance to the cemetery and from a distance she could see the streetlamp shining on the other side⎼its welcoming glow falling on the sidewalk that would lead her home. The night was cold with fierce winds that blew right through her knitted sweater leaving its marks in forms of small bumps that prickled on her arms and jean covered legs. She mentally kicked herself for not taking her mothers advice to bundle up more; knowing if she had she would have been able to endure the frosty weather enough to go the long way home.

Unfortunately for her bigheadedness, crossing the cemetery was the fastest and only other route she could take. Her eyes instinctively scanned for any movement, but the wintery darkness only revealed a light snow covered ground and the outlines of tombstones. She cringed when she opened the rusted iron gate, its loud creaking echoing through the night informing her arrival to the dead. Small clouds of steamy air puffed from her lips as she released the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

Her eyes locked onto the streetlamp ahead and with stiff legs Sarah reluctantly advanced further into the cemetery, each step sounding like glass crunching beneath her boots due to the crisp snow. The night's shadows enjoyed playing tricks on her eyes, though she knew they were just tree branches swaying from the brisk winds it didn’t stop her from glancing every which way.

The sudden crunch of snow from behind her had Sarah swerving her head over her shoulder, her eyes capturing nothing but tombstones and the faded outline of the cemetery's entrance gate. Figuring the source of the noise was nothing to concern herself with, she continued walking.

Then came another crunch, this time it was louder, closer.

Sarah’s whole body swung around, only to be met with nothing. Turning around quickly she increased her steps, she had no interest to know what was behind her. When the only sound she could hear was the sound of her own footsteps along with the frantic rhythm of her heart, Sarah stopped.

Her mouth quirked up in a goofy smirk. She was being ridiculous. Nobody was behind her, it was just her imagination running wild.

Sarah was getting closer to the streetlamp, it’s light growing brighter with each step she took. Relief washed over her, her heart slowly going back to a steady rhythm⎼no longer wanting to beat out of her ribcage. Yet, the feeling of security was short-lived as heavy footsteps pounded from behind her.

Her stomach clenched as terror thundered down on her, in the darkness her muscles tensed as terror captivated her as its prisoner. Focusing on the streetlamp ahead, she didn’t ignore her instincts any longer and bolted forward as a surge of adrenaline swept through her body as she pumped her legs, gaining momentum with each push. Her breaths came in short gasps as her eyes grew wide with panic at the echo of someone else's footsteps coming in close from behind.

Sarah didn’t dare stop, even when she reached the streetlamp, she was too afraid of what would happen to her if she did. Fear made her swing her head over her shoulder and what she saw made her blood run cold.

Standing just outside the cemetery was a large faceless shadow, so dark that she was still able to see it in the pitch black. Sarah nearly tripped over herself as she quickended her pace in a desperate attempt to get as far away from it as she could, her legs not stopping till she reached her house.

It’s evening and the night is closing in. The last glimpse of light disappears above the trees.

Wait! There! You’ll hear it! Nothing.

For one infinitesimal moment there is no sound. No movement Nothing breathes Nothing flutters Nothing scratches No one sings.

The darkness surrounds. Slips over Around Beneath Above And tucks you in for the night.

Then you realize it’s all an illusion. It all comes alive again. Shift change in the forest.

Lost in the darkness, Surrounded but all alone, Lost in my own mind, Surrounded by the nightmares, And things I want to forget.

Darkness, my old friend If by friend you mean that friend who counts favour and investment the same That friend who will intoxicate you and film the aftermath to shame you, like it’s a game He’ll watch you cover yourself in filth, in drunken stopper with the promise of hiding you, just as long as he get to overshadow, rule, overrule the truth.

Darkness has creeped, busted, lusted, slandered, pandered and schemed its way into our hearts. He calls himself humanity now. He is not.

The truth is if you have light, he can’t touch you. Unless... you give it away.

It's strength arises from my own weakness When my eyes close the only time I wish to embrace it Even as the sun shines I still tumble towards its nemisis at the end of the tunnel I find solace knowing they can't see me stumble and fall in this place When my eyes close I bask in the glory of the rarerifed dreams sent my way reminded I am capable of anything even when consumed in its presence For when I turn to look behind there is no beginning or ending to it erasing everything continuing ahead to its opposite What a paradox that in the depth of darkness I fear less the unknown and my own strength arises from own weakness

They say it consumes you when You least expect it. I believe them because it happens to me All the time, the way it creeps Behind your eyes and slowly making them water And suddenly you’re crying, why? I cry and I wonder why I am the way that I am Why am I this way? Why can’t I look like the girls from the magazines On Instagram? They have perfect lives All of it, lies You’ll never be like them Face it