Torn from the homeland, like crust being torn from the bread, by the wasteful child. It is then discarded, thrown overboard with the rotting bodies of the ones who finally found the freedom they were looking for. Shackled in chains, lying on top of each other, like a jenga tower, one block away from falling apart. Screaming, screaming, they tore your families apart, a gaping hole left where they stood. They bound you with rusted chains, so brittle they were like a line of paperclips, a necklace, made by those smiling freckled children, but oh, oh so strong. You were like fireflies shining into the night, caught in jars by the children. When they took you inside, they shifted, didn't they, they became the monsters you thought they were. They didn't roast you, no not today, that's on the schedule for tomorrow. Even now our ancestors way, lights into the now, whispering in our ears like a little devil that sits on our shoulders. Black or white, good or bad, does it matter? Inside, we are all just trees, sprouting from the same seed. I bet it was one of those helicopter seeds too,  the ones that float to the ground gently, flying on the wind. Looking up, from an ant's perspective, I bet those little seeds look a little bit like stars, come down to earth.

Do you know what it feels like,
To have your eyes flicker off
The glimmer leaving them,
As your power button is pressed?
Have your ever seen inside a forgotten memory,
Or the forgotten life of an amnesiac?
Have you ever danced among the colors that lurk
In pure darkness?
Tasted their flavors and smelled their aromas?

I am the darkness that takes you when you're not awake or asleep, or when you're both. When the colorless bees buzz on the striped bridge,
I am watching, to see you fall, and to partake in the moment of nothingness before you hit the ground.
I am the shadow that disappears in sunlight, leaving broken souls behind.