Darkness Without Memory

The lights died without warning,

mid-rain, mid-sentence, mid-breath.

A candle sputtered its tired fight,

casting crooked shadows on the wall,

while silence pressed in thick and cold.

Outside, the city held its breath too,

lost in sudden absence,

a dark tide swallowing whole

all the hum and flicker of a day.

I sat, mouth dry, fingers still,

waiting for sound, for light, for something

that didn’t come.