by Shadowdance

Alone again and feeling small
I contemplate my surroundings
The ancient trees stand majestic
Protecting me from the rain.

The children playing at the park
I sit here trying to figure
Why it is that I am alone
And why in fact does it matter.

Communing with nature is one thing
But I feel more harsh than that
I feel the blackness within me seeping
To take control of me.

And is this bad? Not a bad thing.
NO. It is my way.

And mine alone.