Alone

Not really a poem, but not a story either. So I guess this is a Stoem

Everyone feels alone at some point, engulfed by an endless inky eternity, swallowed and drowned by an endless black wave. 

But some never realize that they aren't actually alone in that hell hole, couldn't see the sparkling pin points of light that meant they weren't alone.

Some never resurfaced from that angry tide and roaring fight.

They ended their sufferings with a quick twitch on smooth, cold metal, found company in a blade's slice in arteries. 

Others found fake company, disguised by a glossy smirk or harsh word. So driven by the desperate, urgent need to belong, they became the doter of hate, the worshipper of a falsified god.

They strayed into a world that seemed even more impossible to conquer.

Yet others fought. Silently, loudly, all determined. 

Some delved into their own worlds, found passions that weren't the average hobby. Recipients of harsh word; a precise blade to the heart. 

Others rebelled the harsh rule; found a way to undermine the normal. Found a way to belong, in their own world. Found a way to be proud of who they were.

They were the ones who had slain their dragons, who found their way in life, who sailed past the harsh lash of society and stumbled into success. 

These people can be us. Let's fight.