Adventures through the dark side.

There is a garden I have never visited,

one I never believed more than a dream.

I am not lost—

the path never made itself known.

There was a space to feel content,

one that felt like a fantastic illusion.

I am not blind—

the vision was never made clear.

There was a time the gift was never given,

one that never changed with a second.

I am not missed—

those hands never gave notice.

There was a shine so dazzling,

one that made all things open.

You hold the flame.

The path glowed, not to be ignored.

There was a door opened with breath,

one turn that freely found a home.

You hold the key.

The other side poised as a painting.

There was a piece uncovered,

one buried by disregard.

You hold the glass.

The reflection was no longer stained