For thirty years, I walked the edge,
A fragile thread, a splintered pledge.
The light, it mocked, a fleeting glow,
Its promises hollow, its warmth hollowed.

The darkness whispered, soft and low,
A voice I feared, but longed to know.
Its velvet hands, they held me tight,
Wrapped me in shadows, swallowed the light.

For every demon, I learned their name,
Familiar faces, reflections of blame.
They grinned with teeth of jagged flame,
And whispered, “You are not the same.”

I fell, or maybe I chose to...