It was a bright midday in June,
When he sought refuge from what plagued him.
He took his camera for a walk,
To get his mind off of Kim.
It had been three whole weeks,
Since that fatal car ride.
A screech of tires, shattered glass.
She’s no longer at his side.
Down the street he walked,
To the forest so he could see,
The birds, the leaves, the dirt, the sky,
The trees, the trees, the trees.
And though running he was,
From the feeling that befell,
He was angered when he found,
They were in the forest as well.
He picked up speed and into the trees,
He plunged ever further.
He ran blindly, faster and faster,
To escape the thoughts of her.
He burst into a clearing,
And saw a red tower, reaching to the sky.
He slumped down, his back to the brick,
And quickly started to cry.
“Why did she have to go?”
Into a ball, he curled.
He looked into his camera, pressed ‘record,’
To say good-bye to this world.
He wiped the tears from his eyes.
He rose up to his knees,
When in the camera’s bright screen,
He saw something in the trees.
He turned quickly to see who,
It was who stood there.
He was struck, dumbfounded when he saw,
Something out of a nightmare.
Silent, unmoving. Wrapped in black.
It stood tall and *****.
It charaded as a man, though man, it was not.
Pale face, black hat, collar high-necked.
He stared in horror, tried to run,
His feet would not move.
The Shadow outstretched it’s long arms,
And the feelings began to soothe.
“I know what you feel, I know why you cry.”
“I know what rampaged in your heart.”
“Take my hand, join me into the dark.”
“From her memory, you shall part.”
“Who are you,” he yelled back.
“Why do you speak to me?”
“Go on your way, dark stranger.”
“I want to be alone, can’t you see?”
The shadow hissed, a poisoned laugh.
“On my way? We’ve only just started.”
His anger sparked, but he was happy it replaced,
The feeling that had departed.
He approached the Shadow quickly.
A blow, he planned to land.
As he stood next to the towering figure,
He swung forward his hand.
As he knocked off the Shadow’s hat,
Through his mind, images of Kim did race.
He stared into the Shadow’s visage,
But it was just his own cold, dead, pale face.