Beauty in Darkness

Curiosity,
A feeling born to a being older than the word itself.
A stirring in the darkness,
Spreading its warm veins into every long-dead space...
Pulsing and breathing life where only blackness and misery once dwell'd.

Oh, what is this?

Such an inferno of passionate color,
Illuminating the realm of pain and chaos...
Making it almost beautiful,
Almost real.

But is it?

Seeing cannot be believing
When belief no longer exists.
The lingering memory of a sweet smile and a tender kiss...
Ah, the weary spirit questions itself.

Confusion...

What is this I feel?