My Poetry and the Like

Night Is Bright (not exactly a poem)

Water dripped from the ceiling. My hot breath echoed off the rough walls. I would love to describe more to you this cave I am trapped in, but there is nothing to see except for the Darkness.
Darkness.
You have not seen Darkness until you come to this cave. It surrounds you like a cloud of livid smoke and ash. Breathing seems harder for the blackness of it all chokes you. As the black seeps into your lungs, it turns your heart as cold as its own.
The Dark has a personality to it too.
It follows you with ease while you trip and stumble through its ebony corridors.
Its laugh resonates around you when you fall into the shallow creek.
The worst are its gloomy eyes. They glare down at you like an innkeeper who hates his guest. They twinkle like an invisible star when you moan, they thin to slits as you discover something new. The ash of the Darkness’ eyes makes you shiver and sweat, laugh and cry, die and live.
As I write this I can remember its cold icy, wet hands claw at my throat.
So I’m sorry if you were looking for a cave description but the Darkness is the scariest place I’ve ever been.