Eight short lines carry a whole small catastrophe. A speaker who cannot see, whose mind has also "gone dark," runs toward sounds, the only guide left, and then the sounds are gone. Nothing is known here about who wrote the poem beyond the name Cichy1410, so it has to stand on its words alone, and it manages. Its central idea is that darkness is more than missing light. It is the loss of orientation, of anything to hold onto. For a blind person, sound is a map. When it disappears, the world goes with it.
The opening line is oddly broken: "I m blind." The missing apostrophe may be a slip or a choice, but either way the stray "m" hangs there like a fragment of a self. The next line picks up the letter and begins with "Mind," and the two words, "blind" and "Mind," echo each other in sound. This is the closest the poem comes to rhyme, and it matters. Physical and mental darkness are tied together here, and the poem does not separate them. Whether the blindness is literal, a state of mind, or both is left open, and "Mind went dark" pushes the reading beyond the eyes. The root of "blind" comes back in "Blindly" in line three, so the word turns from what the speaker is into how he moves.
The poem has no regular rhyme or meter, and no commas or full stops until the end. The lines are two to four words long, built from plain, heavy syllables. That absence of punctuation gives the middle section its momentum. "Running on the stones / Chasing them / Running fast" repeats "Running" like footfalls, and the lines get shorter and quicker as they go. The stones add danger without a word about falling. The surface is hard and uneven, and a runner who cannot see it is exposed. Then there is "them." Sounds become something chased, like prey or like people walking away, and the poem lets us wonder whether these are voices. The speaker pursues something that does not know it is being followed, or cannot wait.
Then comes "Stop." It is a single word and the first full stop in the poem, and after all that unbroken running it lands like a wall. It is also ambiguous. It could be an order the speaker gives himself, a report that he halted, or something that simply happens to him. The next line adds a second puzzle of cause and effect. Did the sounds vanish and force him to stop, or did he stop and lose them? The poem will not say, and the refusal feels right, because in total darkness cause and effect blur together.
The last line, "Sounds disappeared," is the longest sentence in the poem, and its final word is the longest in it. "Disappeared" stretches over four syllables and fades as you say it. The past tense makes it final, and no feeling is named. There is no "I was afraid" and no exclamation mark. The reader gets only the white space under the line, which works as silence. The word "darkness" from the title never appears in the text, and "dark" shows up only once. The poem does not describe the dark so much as stage it, by taking away the speaker's tools one by one: sight, then the mind's clarity, then the sounds.
There is also a quiet tension in the tenses. The poem begins in the present ("I m blind"), then slips into the past ("went," "disappeared"). Judging by this shift, the first line may be the conclusion drawn from the chase, or the speaker may still be inside the dark as he tells it. The poem does not settle that either.
The poem's significance lies in this economy. It uses a handful of ordinary words and almost no decoration, yet it puts the reader in the speaker's place, running toward a sound that may not be there when we arrive. It also does not offer comfort or rescue. It stops where the speaker stops, and what remains is the unsettling quiet after the last word.