And do I dare to challenge the night? To take my candle into the rain and hope that it will survive. Will I roar at the thunder and tell them to bring their pain, judgment, and condemnation? Do I wait for the judges’ tap of his gavel to hope for mercy, or do I scream in his face and tell him to save his mercy for the weak? Why do we seek the comfort of the night when humans roam the day? Is the separation from the unnecessary, necessary? Do we test our metal to see if it breaks, or to temper it with fire? Tested and challenged, but never defeated, do we hide in the night from defeat?
I spar with the evening and dance in the dark. For with the closing light, the evening is still connected to the fear of the day. A feeling of glee erupts upon sight of shuttered windows and extinguised
This won’t get finished for 2 weeks… and I hate drafts. Just going to publish, excuse the amateur hour.