I rubbed my finger against the wall and it turned black like my shadow, dense and opaque. Whatever I touched, wherever I went, obscured; all the light absorbed. Nothing emitted, nothing gets out.
There are no roads, neither a path, not one direction yet I walk. The world bled red but why it did was pitch black. I search for colours, I search for grays, I search for compassion, I search for grace. The eyes are closed, the mouths are open, the world is blind and words, chosen. We’re all stained by sins that can’t be washed off with good intentions and mere acts of purity.
There is no redemption without retribution; there’s no one to heed our call.
Life is a lie, an eternal night lived by all; even the gods perish by nightfall. The good men fall and you know it’s written on the wall.