By: Theo Elliot Goodloe

On the third day, we took the shortest way
Climbed a mountain and I stayed
Found my wings, and dropped down
While I died, heard a sound
And the sound told me things
That had once pulled my strings
Then I saw my true self
Overhead the crows spun round the peak
The sound was coming from their beaks
My body dashed across the rocks
My mind recovered from the shock
A thousand little nerves of mine cried out
Released the pain, forgot the doubt
Liberated, no longer bound
All I heard was sound
And the crows turned to angels
My body felt so grateful
When the squawks changed to singing
My ears joyfully ringing
So if you hear such a sound
Don’t look back and don’t look down
And if you understand all the singing
Hopefully you’ll be thinking
Sound is me, and I am sound.

When I first decided on the topic and title of our first issue, I realized that I would have to write something myself. After reading all the submissions, my task became especially daunting. This magazine contains what I believe to be truly inspired content and I hope those reading it will feel the same. It is my privilege to be a part of this magazine, and to work alongside the keen minds of my peers. So without further ado, I give you the first issue of what I hope will be many more to come. This piece is my darkside: what’s yours?