Guilt

I tried writing all kinds of stories. Satires, funny stuff, something poignant, whatever. But god knows i'm most comfortable in the obscurely dark genre :D..so i thought i should just indulge :P..

It moves underneath darkness's shroud,

As the moon watches from behind a cloud.

A hellish specter come above ground,

Moving on feet that make no sound.

Why in these woods, did you have to wander?

That too on a night of peace torn asunder.

You sit here with not an expression pained,

While its dead eyes are on you trained.

But in a sinister fashion typical of death,

A creeping, sinking feeling is within you set.

You begin to wonder about this sudden despair,

Then notice a shadow that wasn't hitherto there.

Its no creature, is it a shadow of doubt or the past?

Can't put a word to it, a sadness that tends to last.

It yanks all the memories you've left in dark to rot,

From your cradle to the grave, connects every dot.

From nowhere and everywhere, in a moment's spur,

Its right beside you, in your ear with a whisper.

'I know all the bad things you've ever done.

'Lets go back to see where it had all begun.'

You tremble and shake, but powerless you are,

'It was you who pushed your loving mother afar.'

Not wanting to hear, you try to shut it out.

'You became an island from your self doubt.'

Trying to run, convinced you're being haunted,

'You left your wife, when you were all she wanted.'

Rooted as you are, the words begin to sink in,

'Every little theft and lie, I know every little sin.'

You cringe and cry as it all washes over you,

'A father missed a son as you never came through.'

'No more!' you shout, but its not quite yet done,

'Your children gave you love and in return got none.'

And then the thing gets an iron grip on your soul,

It twists and wrangles it, creating a hole.

Life as you know it, is slowly ebbing away,

But in light of these horrors, you don't want it to stay.

You welcome the darkness with arms open wide,

You want it to end, even though you could've tried.

Realizing just when your head is making the final tilt,

The thing that came to get you was your own guilt.