Chris Magazine

The darkness

The darkness fell
It was a stark, desolate look
Covering all of his features
It was audible
The endless chatter
The meaningless scatological banter
Had ceased, leaving silence
Every movement was deliberate
Made from well practiced actions
Rather than any sense of desire
Even the smile he wore
Betrayed the arctic frost
Growing beneath
There was no joy in that smile
Merely a fulfillment of an expected action
He’d known,
Expected anyway, the result
The cards he’d played were poor from the start
And the dealer never seemed to deal his way
But it seemed so real
So tangible to him
He had embraced it
But he should have seen
It was a roller coaster
While you are on it, you own that feeling
That elation of your stomach dropping into your feet
Then jumping into your throat
But it’s ride and it’s not yours
It will end and the determination of that end
Won’t be his to make
It’s in the hands of others
And when it does he’ll find
That feeling, the one that seemed so strong
That seemed to make everything else fall away
Wasn’t his, it was on loan
And rightfully taken back
So the darkness stays
And he
No longer seeks
The light