Me or the light from Silhouette

Unfolding the last few lines of
solitary,
written up on this midnight;

words of darkness, 
horrendous than me 
were sprinkled

ME; 
a silhouette of dark, 

a  light irradiates from solitude,

or

a lust drawn depiction of 
yasodharas moist fingers,
on lonely nights of Buddha.