Behind the darkness

While the city slumbers in the silence,

 Behind thick velvets and dim lights.

The fluorescent yellow burn across the streets,

And the moon quietly hide behind the clouds.

There still lies a world, awake.

In the corners of the town.

Living amidst the crowd yet hid behind the shadows, Behind the veils of a gossamer gray, with spider's web weaving an intricate tapestry.

Little eyes silently peer out from their hiding place,

Their faces pale, lean frames appearing anemic, 

The unfortunate few, 

Born to wrestle to survive, 

Born under plight of poverty, their lives a constant struggle, 

Suffering the maladies of a broken and lost humanity.

Shabbily dressed, unkempt hairs, tears stained cheeks, feeble, yet they are bathed with the luster of ambition and dreams. 

Draw closer, 

And reach, to learn more what the darkness hides.

Behind the gossamer gray, 

A glimpse into the world beyond,  

A world dark, full of nothings.

An abyss of deep darkness.

The darkness of fate,

The darkness of souls,

The darkness of callous hearts.

The darkness of a world of unspoken truths,

The bitter and ugly truth.

Empty room, dim lights

Silent lips quivering in a corner

Her curls fall over her face, 

Wine drip from the glass in her hand.

She is intoxicated, 

Intoxicated, but, with grief.

She wore a cocktail dress and high heels,

Flaunting her perfect body with the glitter and glamour.

She appeared a flawless beauty.

Yet her eyes appealed something deep. 

Behind the smile and charm

She hid her story, the truth of her pain.

Her heart was secretly torn inside,

She burnt with a thirst intense,

Of promises and desires unfulfilled. 

She smelled of alcohol and her favourite perfume,

Yet the lingering smell of longings

Never faded from her.

The longing of nothings,

Of nothings left betrayed,

Of longings, none can explain.

She silently hides in the darkness,

And the world will never see nor hear her cry.

Sometimes, sadness is beautiful.

Sometimes, sadness comforts while the rest of the world suffocates you.

And sometimes sadness is all that is left, as your own.

There's always a story, 

Hiding behind the mask,

Hid behind the curtains of misfortune, and despair.

Behind the shimmery make up, hiding its scars of past,

Behind the silent lips, that cried all night, hiding a story of desperation and abuse.

Behind the smiling, guilty face, disappearing in the shadows in dark.

The darkness of awful silence, 

The unspoken silence.

The unheard truth.

* * *