Thursday, December 18, 2014


picture credit:

a few full moons had graced the skies,
and the hours counted down to the final second,
which passed without thought or hesitation.
the knots too tight, fear too great, the dream too small........
your insides are torn, shredded, lifeless is your pulse
that offers your fading soul to the spirits of the black knight,
and you become an illusion just as the shadows
that are lost in a deep deep moonless night.


  1. after death i guess we are much like an illusion...
    to many still there, like that ever present shadow...
    just untangible....

  2. Oh no, not the nights. I like my sleep.

  3. Such a mysterious and beautiful write as always Shadow. Hope you have a wonderful weekend. :-)