The Dary Of Dark Poet, The Beginning. Part 1

The Dairy of a Dark Poet part one

Many a night i lay awake trying to understand what made this way. I cried through those blackened nights as a boy. Never understanding why i carried such pain. I was a never the same. Never the same again. The night when my world came to an end.
I was 15 years old when my darkness began and in that fateless house it was the beginning of the end. Shadows loomed in the endless night, as darkness fell in the flouresent light. In my room there was silence, no whispers of the wind. The hallway was silent, i drifted away. As shadows crept closer i faded away. Deep into slumber in this place i called my bed.
It was deep in the night when the cold filled my bed. A shiver of silence. Just crushing of air.
I didnt understand why my body couldnt move, why there was silence with this orb in the room. Bright as a star, but infinitly dark. This body of light shone right through my soul. The voice filled the room like the crash of a wave. A defeni ng roar that was followed by pain. The strength of the tone cut right through my clothes. Seering my chest with the mark of the damned.
666 was the number of the beast. It burned in my chest with the heat of a flame. I tried to scream out but my voice was stolen away. Nothing but silence in this tomb of my room. It called out again and the pain but increased, asking me questions i didnt understand. Then the light went away and a blade pierced my side. A trickle of blood and the light seemed to go out. In the gloom of my room a dark figuire emerged. A siren of beauty with death on her tounge. She pushed the blade deeper and light caught her eyes. Her pale white skin and that stare built of ice. She asked me the question, Was i a man or a mouse. Would i be willing to die. Or would i stand up and fight. At 15 years old i had no words for my pain. This shadow struck quickly with no warning or shame.
I buried my pain and i cried out in anger. Why would i die when you try to strike me down. She looked at me blankly. Almost curious it seemed. This 15 year old boy just struck back at this dame. The blade was withdrawn and her wings seemed to move. She looked at me intently without making a move. She suddenly came closer. Without blinking she moved. She hovered above me and whispered this news. You will die simple poet with those words you have chosen. Darkness will fill you from the wounds i have sown. Drift away to sleep, my master will come for you. Know that you were marked to bare the pain of this world. You would stand agaisnt the darkness in this shadow of this room. Then you will die alone within it and i will leave here with your soul.
I stared back at this demon with no blood left in my eyes. Then my conciousness was lost and only darkness filled my eyes. When i awoke there was sunshine and the morning light had come. I had survived the demon's encounter but her words would never die. I was marked by a shadowed angel wearing wings dark as night. A blade that shone of silver but was born of tears of blood.
So it was written so it was played out. This was the birth of the walker of the night.
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. This is the path that has lead me to these words , follow with in them to see the battles i have fought. For i am the Dark Poet, The eternal voice of the damned.... to be continued in the next installment.