Broken Lights

The lights must be broken. Instead of light what they do is crowd our lives with darkness, darker than hell’s soot. I have resolved to walk away from the lights, loose myself in the darkness that the night and I will be one, the shadows and I will be blood brothers enmeshed together by bonds greater than our own understanding.


I do not seek the light anymore, I am too fatigued to repair my soul each time from bits of worthless pieces.


The life I know is the life I have had to live which once used to be well lit, full of candles and Christmas carols until it all came crumbling around me, piece by piece of things and people I used to know, used to love, used to be my entire life.


But now I have another life, the life of absolute obscurity and serious damnation.


A life where when a heart stops I pull myself together and move back deeper into the mist, that way it does not hurt. That way, you do not notice when the lights go off because they are always off. I hope I find solace in darkness, redemption is too much a far thought right now.


The lights must be broken, this time, I do not wish them fixed.


Sue, it will be fine. RIP dad.


Words: Dennis Peters

Photography: Mukiri Gitiri

[Mukirivity– Ingenious art and text made comparative]

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