I was in the darkness — Summary

The speaker begins lost in an inner darkness where he can’t see his own words or even the wishes of his heart. It’s a numb fog—unsettling, but somehow familiar. Then, without warning, a great light floods in. We don’t learn what it reveals; the only response is an immediate, almost desperate plea: “Let me into the darkness again.” Clarity doesn’t feel like rescue here—it feels like an assault. The darkness, for all its blindness, offered a strange shelter from truths too harsh to bear. The mood is hushed and tense, the breath caught just after a shock. Crane distills a raw, human reflex: sometimes we’d rather not see what we really are or want. Illumination becomes a burden, and the real comfort lies in retreating back to blindness.