Mysterious and unknown...it strikes like a phantom in the nite. A certain time, a certain season, a certain face. It dwells in the lurky shadows that none will expect it to arise. The sun brings not 'it's fear but instead a hidden self. A certain being is being hard to understand, a stumbling shock to those near 'it'. What is it that the form does not even know how 'it' existed. Was it mere adjustment or dawn of a new ? The smell of foulness overwhelms the beholder and will surely affect the rest beside 'it'. The reality of 'it' struggles to break through but time and time again 'it' fails and it brings along 'its' failure wherever it goes. What is 'it'?
Lurking or not....the phantom will not last. A bright light shines dimly in the further night. Its a call...not like any other... maybe it'll help. May fear turn to trust. May lostlessness be found...may all the uglyness become beautiful and may it wipe out all the darkness.