You're sharing time with each of your loved ones
The clock strikes the witching hour
A well-dressed man steps into the room with burdens that could drown a man
Yet no expression is told on his face
Color seems to fade from his face and begins to fade from the world around him
The colors black and gray become familiar
Thuds of your heart pound at your ear drum as you stare at him
Your sight distorts with each step he takes
Voices in the room become echoes
Your knees give out
You hit the floor, as if you were begging for your life
Headaches turn to migrains
Your bones are weak
You mutter scream, but your voice is not heard
The well-dressed man walks up to you.
You look into his eyes and see your own
This man is known to be your enemy
A voice in your head tell you 'You did this to yourself'
'If you hadn't done this to yourself' the man whispered into your brain
'I would have never entered the room'
His unseen burdens trouble you
Your sight shifts and you see yourself
You're not familiar with the perception of this well-dressed man.
But he is you.
You were never conscious of this man.
This man used to be more in control and was never consumed by his surroundings.
You became consumed and pushed over by your environment.
I am the well-dressed man
Before Death steals you with his life-less, rigid grip
Will you accept defeat?
Does the light lurk where you hide?