Nothing dead, alive or otherwise can compare to darkness, that true, all-consuming darkness that very few souls ever have the terror of knowing. An empty black pit of endless sorrow, utter despair and wretched loneliness is all my pathetic life has ever seen. Savagely twisting and slowly tormenting your mind, blackened colour drives you to insanity.

Darkness is a deathly angel. Forever her prisoner, I am unable to say the chains she has bound my wrists so tightly with will ever be broken. Darkness won’t allow me to see my children’s elated faces beaming with pride and joy, yet she tempts me with their frantic giggles and curious voices. She wouldn’t let me see my husband’s devoted face on our wedding day, nor the love and compassion in his eyes.

Escaping my deranged prisoner is, and always will be, unthinkable. She and I share the same tired body; the same motionless eyes show us both the same blackened world. Vibrant colour and complex shapes had been stolen from me before I had ever known to call them mine. Forever captive to blindness, I am never to know the loving faces of my children, my husband’s gentle eyes, nor the glory of colour.

Nothing dead, alive or otherwise can compare to darkness, that true, all-consuming darkness that very few souls ever have the terror of knowing.