This poem may not seem like a narrative poem or narrative at all, so allow me to point this out if need be. The narrator is from the perspective of somebody who may or may not actually exist, made to appear as a minor remnant of existence. This narrator displays their believed to be summarized story of humanity and how it is seen in their eyes. I also must confess that this does relate to me in some ways, but not entirely. Read and comment, please and thank you.
-Perspective of the Void-
Here is a story of the night,
Which causes to fill us with fright.
Why we all live under the light,
Should we fear the force of God's might?
Born of darkness, we are the weak ones,
We tell jokes, stories, lies and puns.
We are survivors, kings of pain;
Full of pride, we take our lord in vain.
Under Lucifer's hand, I stand;
People of Earth, who command,
Beware of the traitors who lurk.
In the night, who wields the dirk
Will harvest the lives of the strong.
You can fear the fact, I'm not wrong.
Light and darkness, which I so hate,
The foggy road ahead lead to my fate.
You conquer a land and want peace,
Once this starts, it will never cease.
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