SHADOW
I am the Shadow;
Of the trance of worldly guiles,
Of the remorse of perturbed souls,
And everything in between.
I am the Shadow
Of the interludes of stubborn decisions
Made to fabricate the brevity
Of the pillages of existence;
Of the very voices of hope
Relenting on the clasps of
Persistent intrepidity against the
Sickening preludes of inevitability —
The mentors of disruption having reduced
The reasons of hope to dying ashes.
For in the savages of uncertainty,
I lurk in columns of benevolence,
Settle in repositories of truths
Long enough to go unnoticed,
Unscathed by the flickering lights of incoherence.
I am the Shadow
And I take flight in the
Waning margins of killing
And being killed,
Between the love for life
And the lust for its sophistication;
That in hours of dying traditions
Would prove perilously potent
To match the ruthlessness
Of people lost long ago.
The Shadow of the solace
Tainting the edges of horizon,
The sanctuary for craving souls,
For forlorn thoughts,
The penance of mortal sins…
I am the Shadow
Of the winds of the future,
The sands of the past;
I traverse through dolent cities
Burning in spites of incongruence.
And it is here that I permanently lurk,
That corner of hearts
People use to ruffle
Dormant thralls of untamed emotions —
That minds have always been with
Too mushy of an aforethought
To ever come to.
And I lurk in that soft spot
People don’t think they have,
Refuse to believe they have…
For I am the Shadow;
Of the trance of worldly guiles,
Of the remorse of perturbed souls,
And everything in between.
