Sitting beneath the moon
Diving my teeth into a black apple
I see nothing; just little lights
Flickering in the beyond.

I feel darkness, hear it's motions
"Aren't you afraid?" It hisses.
I pause, look around- it's quiet.
"Are you afraid of being here?"

I shake my head side-to-side,
Watching dark tendrils slither on my skin.
"What a sickening thing to be here." it says.
"Here?" I say. "No. You've mistaken me for a weak-mind,"

I pause, look around- it's quiet.
"Yes, you are darkness," I say.
"But I have overcome you."
And with the voice of a lost soul:

"You haven't won, I'll return." It spits.
"And again, I shall defeat you." I reply.
It snickers, grins, snarls, then tears away.
I sit in a painting; my yard.

Sitting underneath the sun
Diving into a red apple
I see everything; the sun and the sky
I smile blisfully at my victory.