The eye seeks light.

The eye seeks light

ravenously

the beacon to banish

uncertainty.

The pit in the stomach

loosened

the hairs on the neck

smoothed.

The pupils widen

desperately

tiny black mouths

keen to devour-

The milky moon

the dancing candle

the winking stars.

Use, abuse, adjust.

Quickly, now.

It is not the darkness

that the eyes fear-

and it’s not until

there’s nothing

when they aren’t sure

if they’re open or shut-

confused. Confounded.

Lost underground

and the candle is gone-

there’s no moon to see-

the stars are distant

memory-

They stare. Reach out-

and falter.

Your eyes fail you.

There is just blackness.

The cold touches

your skin

the dampness

like phantom’s fingers.

Tracing. Testing.

You know the space around you

is wide but

it’s growing tighter-

coming in to crush. Consume.

Something is dripping-

slick saliva off

stalactite fangs.

A chill settles deep

in your chest-

Your breathing grows

harsher. Mounting panic.

Trapped with nothing

but your imagination

at play like scribbling madmen

wielding bloody pens.

And the truth is clear:

what you fear is not the darkness

but the absence of the light.

For there are things

that see without it.

They see you.

But you-

You can’t see them-

coming closer.

It slips from corners as it grows

Sweeping its fingers across

Until the light is consumed

Absorbing all of my energy

No longer able to fight

I close my eyes

Drifting into a beautiful dream

Some nights thoughts dominate the empty space.

Worry, fear, anger.

Unrelenting in their vortex, eager to fill in for the missing sense.

Other times calm washes over the shadow, finding absolute peace in the stillness.

Ease, tranquility, love.

An awareness of self in the absence of visions of else.

The darkness shapes me.

I shape the darkness.

Nothing.

I can't see anything. There's nothing to see because there's no light with which to see. I look around and there's only infinite, pure darkness.

No light.

Interestingly, even though I experience and know nothing from a physical standpoint, I rationally acknowledge the possibility that there are many things near me, and that I still and ultimately experience, from a cognitive standpoint.

Schrodinger's Cat.

Both nothing and something(s) exist, by virtue of the darkness.

In the dark,

The demons come,

As those who haunt the soul,

My soul.

At night they come,

Mocking and reviling me,

My past,

The things I've done,

The people I've hurt,

Those are the flaming arrows that they shoot.

In the dark,

They reside,

In my dreams they create my worst fears,

They bring them to life,

As if they enjoy causing my torment,

And no one understands,

Why a grown man cowers in the dark.

- Mr. DH

Francis Bacon wrote, "All colours will agree in the dark."

When you cannot see, it is nothing to put away your prejudices, your suspicions, your anticipations. You are content to feel around the walls of your heart and find your own way through this world, alone if at times necessary.

In the light, you can see all those prejudices, suspicions, and anticipations. Most cling to them, don't they? We see it in how they all treat each other. God forbid they should ever feel around the walls and find their own way out their unwanted room; better they push off another apparently.

Not you. You see your own prejudices, but you do not cling to them. You see them for what they are – the real dark things. It is an unwanted room out which they could never feel your way.

What Bacon wrote about was not the real dark, but merely the absence of light. A temporary, often voluntary condition, a convenience if one wishes their colours to artificially agree.

Turn on the light. You might yet find your colours agree anyway.

Darkness (when applied to our everyday world), is simply the absence of light. Everything is still where it should be, it simply isn't illuminated.

However, from a human perspective, the baggage that is associated with darkness can be quite harrowing.

Bad things happen all the time, it doesn't matter what time of day or night it is, but, and it's a big but, some humans have inbuilt associations with darkness that make it in some way seem threatening.

I am unfortunately one such person. I am hesitant when moving about in dim lighting conditions.

This hesitancy renders me completely terrified in pitch black areas and I am aware that this is purely baggage that I carry with me from my childhood. However hard I try I cannot master the fear imprinted upon me by my mother when I was just a young child.

To counter this irrational fear I carry a torch when I know I will be in darkness at some point. It isn't any old torch either, it is an American high power instrument constructed by Maglight, which dispels darkness, and thus my fears of it. God Bless Maglight.