It comes creeping in.
That . . . feeling.
A feeling I am most familiar with.
It's something I have not felt in some time.
A darkness most unfriendly.
A type of dark that casts its ugly shadow on me.
It wants to take over,
No . . . it can't.
Gleams of hope keep it just behind me.
Keep it by me.
Keep it away from me.
Drive it away . . .
Hope drives it away.
But it seems to creep, lurk.
Never gone.
Never far . . .
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