Beneath The Black, The Sky Is Pale

I live in my own dark world and I wish I could see more, but truthfully I cannot.

Beneath The Black, The Sky Is Pale
By Keaton Foster

“Twisted are these dreams, real are these schemes.”

Beneath the black, the sky is pale, expanding, meandering, and as always, I keep following. Never truly knowing a destination and unsure of where I’ve been, I’m always lost in this place, this wicked wilderness.

This place is a righteous kingdom of wolves, always hungry for blood. These wolves are forever chasing me, like the past I cannot escape. They snap at my heels, and I cannot pause for a moment. I know I must keep moving, never standing in any place for long. I cannot find a moment of rest or peace.

For me, time alone often decides when lies become truth. Remembering back is nearly impossible. Lost faces appear as silent ghosts. Loved ones, once misplaced, have since further escaped. I am always alone in this ever-deepening hole, sickening me to the bone as I fight to find equal footing while falling further.

Deeper and deeper I sink with each step. As I move along, I whisper, *Beneath the black, the sky is pale*. I say it softly, in a range inaudible to most, at a level only those attuned to such absolutes can hear.

God above won’t relent; His grip is upon my heart. Suffering is what must be done as I fight to explain myself, and these words are my only way. Nonsensical gibberish or unprecedented brilliance, I’ll let the critics decide. In the end, I know I will be judged by content and persecuted by meaning. I know I will offend far more than I’ll ever save.

Beneath the black, the sky is pale; there is no sun, no moon defined. There is only nothing—hopeless, thick, and wide. I face no chance here. I was never truly meant to survive, yet somehow, I have. Through each page, I tell this story as I live it. I can do nothing else because it is all I truly have.

All that is, without question, mine…



*Beneath The Black, The Sky Is Pale*
*Written by Keaton Foster © 2015.*