All gems have a weak spot,
It's never what people think,
The center of the gem the strongest,
It's the sides that crack.
Chipping away.
All gemstones,
Under enough pressure,
Shatter.
Left to dust,
Just like all old stones do.
Even the brightest colors turn to gray,
The once cruel blood red,
Muddied to a sad excuse of a shade.
But the shadows,
They love old beauty,
No matter how grayed,
How broken.
A new slate,
To be forgotten and recycled.
The shadows will always welcome you home,
They're just a call away.
No one is stronger than the dark that allows light.
We are not the absence of light,
We are the void that denies it,
You can't shine a flashlight at the bottom of an ocean.
Darkness will always welcome you home,
To wash away the fragments of the old crushed stone.

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