A dark heart and soul,

Flowing with black pitch.

Spilling from the crevices,

Making so much difference.

Flowing, flowing,

Trying, fighting,

Against the current

That's pulling violently downstream.

A river of color,

Two so familiar,

So painfully recognizable.

Desperately fighting,

But knowing loss is only what is to come.

Yet refusing to surrender,

Still desperately trying,

Choking,

Choking on the water.

It's stifling and suffocating,

Escape is not possible.

But still they try,

To defeat the odds.

And be the hero they said you could be.

But faith is thinning,

And giving up is a near path.

You're so tired

Of fighting this pitch.

Some have not this black pitch,

That hinders them.

Their hearts are clear red,

But others develop black pitch.

Pouring from the bottoms of their deepest meanings,

And dealing with that pitch,

Is what makes them

The strongest.