They lie in the darkness, not the light, I say.

They move, they slither and crawl, taking shapes of whatever they like.

They do, I tell you, for I have seen them.

Are they an absence of truth?

Or maybe an absence of lie.

No, perhaps neither they are.

A little of both? Possibly.

Are they the tattered mists of yesterday’s nightmares?

Are they the ragged marks, left upon our souls, by dreams unfulfilled?

Perhaps they are both, mayhap they are neither.

But it matters not! No, not really.

For they are still there, lying within the darkness.

They only wait for us to notice them.

-from Libro tenebrarum Susurrat