Nameless
It comes out of the darkness.
It comes out of the silence
Stretched like wings
Of pure blackness.
Enveloping.
Suffocating.
There are so many things
That need to be said,
So many things that ought
To take the shape of words
Moulded into form and meaning.
We think of such names for it
As to tell of the deep darkness
It grows from.
For names can tame and tell,
Remove us from these horrors.
Let its name be spoken once again.
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