Darkness Rises

I lace up and head out into the dark.
The weaving shadows mimic my mind.

I have read that darkness rises.
That aviators soaring the skies see darkness rise from below, chasing away the light.

Darkness doesn’t fall on me.
It creeps up, slithering from the shadows.

Driving upward, crowding the light.
Clawing higher.
Overwhelming.

Darkness.
Not a thing itself, but an absence of light.

How can an emptiness become so tangible; an absence become a presence all its own?