It comes just before dawn, so long after the light once disappeared it seems as if darkness will never end. The air is cold and brisk and hard. My eyes are unseeing and I walk like a blind man, arms extended, probing the night. Tiny obstacles make me stumble and often manage to throw me to the ground. I fumble and hesitate. Sleep is elusive and agitated. Dreams get populated with monsters and my heart weakens.
Where do I seek the light?
What if sunrise never came?
It’s the darkest hour.
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Plato