Here I am again, deserted in total and utter darkness.

This onyx abyss I’ve come to know quite well. As for the reason I am here?

Simply put I prefer isolation, though I suppose that is hypocritical. I enjoy being alone, but not being lonely.

     And here I am, being comforted by the absence of other presents.

Caressing only that of my own mind, wrapped in a banket of self consciousness.

Left alone for my thoughts to wander freely, presumably looking for peace in the hidden valley.

     My heart lay in sorrows, consumed by the cold waters of life’s embrace.

Though time stops, I still cannot catch up to it.

Games of solitude aren’t satisfying anymore.

The ground was fertile, only watered by the taste of sorrow.

     I write about loneliness absentmindedly sinking farther in solitary.

A rock sinking down in the unclear depths of water.

Knowing that it is sinking, knowing that it is alone, knowing that it will never see the bright surface again.