“The hate will keep us warm”
I whisper to myself, as if it's my mantra, my reason.
Outside, you will never see the cracks. I'll make sure you never see them.
Inside no storm rages, no gale force winds rock my very soul. No hellfire consumes me to my very core.
No, nothing is there but shadow, not darkness, but not light. Almost as if it's the absence of both.
It'll chill you to your very bones if you let it. It can shatter your very foundation if you slip. And if you attempt to pierce this veil, no treasure is to be found. No if you search within my very being, my soul, all that is there is an empty husk. Pieces, strewn about, as if someone was trying to forget what had once been there. The shroud is unacceptable, you will lose your way the very moment you step within it. Those who do, cry out in frustration and give up. Those who do, never try to find what's truly hidden in the shadow. They leave, and take what little warmth they brought with them.
So I tell you: No, my