The Darkness of Daroness
I looked up upon the light emanating forth from the darkness of Daroness. From whence I was alone, but now; what am I? The light dances in a pattern quite alien to me yet familiar all the same. Is it perhaps a message of warning, a comfort in the darkness of Daroness? The tress rustle with an invisible wind, a wind that is all at once all encompassing and yet absent. I feel a chill develop at the base of my neck, it begins to move down my spine, yet the speed at which it moves feels unnatural. It is as if ice is developing on my spine and disk by disk, paralyzes me in the cold, dead grip of fear; the fear of the darkness of Daroness. The sensations, the lights, they are too much to bear. I look away and close my eyes to the darkness of Daroness. The lights, they are burned into my retinas, not even the darkness of my own mind can spare me from the lights. I open my eyes, the lights have come closer, their wild dance a violent fury of light and fright, cascading down upon me like a boulder from which there is no escape. Do I dare move? Do I run farther into the darkness, until the darkness of Daroness acquires me into its dark embrace? My contemplation is futile, for ever closer do the lights become, ever closer to my mind’s eye are they engrained. The beautiful, terrifying lights sense my desperation, and all at once they stop. The wild dance becomes a stagnant audience, an audience to my destruction, all at the hands of the darkness of Daroness.
