These are the dark nights of the soul…. The bowels burn, the heart breaks open, the body weakened under the strain. Wishing for an uncaring attitude but stricken with profound grief. Looking for soothing comfort, ending up with dead blackness. I traverse this path… no ending in my sights. By one choice it is created, ebbing and flowing, disturbing many, there are few who escape. Days begin to exhibit years in the passing of time. To find refuge is possible, only in brief moments of quiet Theta. This I will seek because an untimely end would only shift my dark nights selfishly to others.
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