Author’s Note

Some poems begin with an image. This one began with a feeling—of stepping into darkness and discovering that it wasn’t empty.

I wanted to follow that feeling without explaining it away. The eclipse, the ravens, the veil, and that silver light all became part of the landscape as the poem moved forward. What starts as something unsettling gradually becomes something almost intimate, as though the darkness has been waiting for the right person to enter it.

There is something strangely comforting about being recognized by a place you thought you should fear.

So I followed the wings.

And eventually, the darkness chose me back.

— Rowan Evans

The Darkness Chose Me Back
Poetry by Rowan Evans

I watch as the moon eclipses the sun,
and light fades to black—
I can hear the flapping of wings,
as a black mass passes overhead.
I follow the sound, one foot
and then the other.
Wandering through the near pitch black,
following the flapping of unseen wings—

until the air shifts,
cold enough to raise every hair on my skin.
The wings stop.
The silence grows teeth.
And somewhere in the dark ahead,
something breathes—

slow,
measured,
waiting.

I take another step,
and the world feels thinner—
like the eclipse ripped a hole in the veil,
and I walked through it—
now life feels right, but the world feels left,
like everything is the same,
but everything has changed.

In the dark ahead, I hear loud breaths—
as branches snap above my head.
Yet, I keep moving—
further into the darkness still,
as my breathing slows and stills—

until the sound of wings returns,
not above me this time,
but all around—
a circle of shadows beating in rhythm,
like a heart I’ve stepped inside.

The darkness tightens,
not to trap me,
but to welcome me—
as if the eclipse didn’t hide the world,
it revealed mine.

Just outside the swirling mass
of raven wings—
I could see the glow of eyes,
they were large in size—
looking at me, eyes wide,
they looked surprised—
almost like they saw me,
and something in me
was recognized.

Meanwhile,
outside the veil—
the moon began to shift
and the light began to return—
but for me, the moon stayed.
And I was bathed—
in silver light rays.

For when the veil opened,
the darkness chose me back.

Journey into the Hexverse

If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]