The dark has beauty.
Just because the word is "dark",
doesn't mean only blood, death, or similar.
At least, the dark which I mean has a core.
Such as: silent screams, permanent scars, fragile ones,
But invisible beauty, the precious anything. Twinkles.
The one is alive, still in the deep darkness.
So I might; I might journey into the dark world, with writing.
One way or another, I am nothing, I have nothing.
There is no me.
There is only time, words and mind.
That is just a stream.
These poems are some of them.