From the first to the last, each generation passes in a single heartbeat. The earliest glimmer of life-like new-born stars that quickly reach their end. A million stories come and go in seconds. Now nothing except endless leaves drifting silently in the wind. Names, dates, achievements soon to be just echoes reaching far into the past.
Another night’s sleep ends abruptly. The room is still dark. A grey half-light seeping from outside in. The distant moon weak, losing its battle with darkness. The darkness that fills our lives. A darkness so alien yet part of what we are.
Tension lifts and the day gets brighter, lighter, safer as I journey to the cities old library.
The basement as always beckons, glass doors locked. More darkness lay beyond my shape, my shadow, shifting as I approach the doors. Reflections looking back at me the, door more than just a barrier. It is a window into the black empty chasm that lies ahead.
I know it’s safe, I am alone just books, shelves and boxes yet nothing looks familiar. The shapes distorted by the dark, moving shifting merging. I reach in looking for my saviour, a simple switch. The void once more crammed with light. My world, the one I know returns. Another day among the books and boxes
All day long the yearning grows despite the light now bursting all around. I know it’s coming. Hostile, hideous, sombre night. Yet so familiar. Darkness left this morning but never left. The glass door, the dark rooms beyond.
Unrecognisable yet what we crave, we need so much. No saviour, no simple switch to guide me. The lights in the room, for now restoring order. I know the truth and soon you will too, there will be no order. The time is coming, I see it in the darkness. Soon I say again, there will be no order.