22 October: Call of the Void
22 October: Call of the Void I am not a superstitious man… But someone tell me: Why do the shadows move? This lightless room Vibrant with motion, Impossible, So real. Formless dark advancing, Immaterial movement menacing… I am not a superstitious man, But do my eyes deceive? In this dark Only the void is darker. How may a shadow whisper? How may a whisper rasp? Some language unknown slithers, Sibilance surrounds. No sense in the syllables, Until my name sounds. Who calls to me from the gloom? No, This is no calling, This is negation. I am not a superstitious man, But I fear erasure. The warmth here does not subside, It is stolen away, Replaced in chill. My fingers frost, My eyelids frozen, The icing words repeat on loop. Cold is the absence of heat. Dark is the absence of light. Demise is the absence of life. I fear erasure, But I am not a superstitious man. I feel as if I scream, I hear naught b...