Adventures through the dark side.

Years from now,

I will vanish.

My name will dissolve, every trace swept away

until I become someone's distant ancestry,

a footnote whispered once and lost.

I accept this.

My greatest dread will come,

and I won't be here to feel it.

Still I write.

I release the mind I hid

for fear of being misunderstood,

lay bare the soul I guarded so fiercely.

Between thin blue lines I leave my ghost.

Imperfect, trembling, unflinching.

I offer love I never held,

buried shadows,

courage I never possessed.

All I have is words.

Nothing grand. Nothing lasting.

Just these small black marks,

my only defense against time.

I write

because I accept I will be forgotten,

yet I refuse to let that be the final word.