I used to write with a focus for struggle, disillusionment, and loss. Hardship and hurt were the lenses through which I wrote. Hemingway wrote this way until he blew his brains out, alone, in a depression he designed. Fitzgerald wrote the same, but in a softer light, until he drank himself to death. Steinbeck saw it too but decided on Salvation. You read their vision in their works.
There is a darkness in Man. This is undeniable, but there is ever an equal and greater light within Him too. In the end, each man becomes that which he decides to see.
I chose light.