In the Dark again, this omnipresent, ethereal place where sight is by touch and sound alone. I stumble through, around the periphery. I know the ledge is there. Am I trying to avoid its rocky depths, or am I seeking its rest to usher my own? I've been here so long in obscurity, I'm overwhelmed by it. Just as afraid of the dark, I am too of the light. These fleeting glimpses too bright and fast by. Uncanny moments where the cliff's depths are easy and obvious to avoid, however only for a time. I am daunted by the bright, white heat of lucidity, for its swift repose which plunges me yet again into inevitable eventide. I've been too long in this place of pitch dark gloom and I've forgotten me. I see the resplendent ease of darkness on the horizon, bringing with it pieces of who I am. But how long, how brief the sorrows end? When again will I be ripped back into the tempest black, gripping nothingness? I just want to sleep. Be left of this temptation to clamber along the edges of my misery. Day to Night. Night to Day. Swirling, half in and half out of light.