Twisting at the core, constantly shifting. Forms innumerable and changing constantly, his soul writhed within him. Insecurities surfacing, screaming, then sinking below the miasma once more. His past sets fires within him, some to remind, some to inspire. Some just to cause immeasurable pain.
Wracked in eternal conflict, he drops to his knees. Pressing clenched fists into the sides of his head, he pleaded with the unseen to cease this torment. Anything just to stop the constant turmoil.
No help came.
The lights are gone.
Left in the dark, left to his pain, left in torture.
Alone with his despair.

Whaddya think?

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