I am a shadow.
A ghost, a mote of darkness,
I do not look it.
But feeling is believing.
I am a shadow.
A hollow shell that keeps a soul.
A temporary thought, a trace,
I feel it race
Through my worried mind
As I imagine an item or object
That I could truly be.
The lie is,
I am all of them, and still
Just a shadow.
Though.
I am more than those
Who guide the lights.
The ones that contritely,
Bind me to this murder plain.
Blind. Now I know, that
I am a shadow.
Not the memory, of the moment
But the blurred and shapeless spectre
Awaiting in the night.
A ghost, a mote of darkness,
I do not look it.
But feeling is believing.
I am a shadow.
A hollow shell that keeps a soul.
A temporary thought, a trace,
I feel it race
Through my worried mind
As I imagine an item or object
That I could truly be.
The lie is,
I am all of them, and still
Just a shadow.
Though.
I am more than those
Who guide the lights.
The ones that contritely,
Bind me to this murder plain.
Blind. Now I know, that
I am a shadow.
Not the memory, of the moment
But the blurred and shapeless spectre
Awaiting in the night.
