Maybe I'm just a shadow, cast by the sun,
Part of the light but never truly one.
I fear the dark, and what it may hold
It ***** my emotions and makes my heart grow cold

The warmth of the light burns my fragile being
I lose my substance, I lose myself
Darkness sinks into me, consumes my health
I fear the dark and what I might find,
A loss of my being, an end to my mind

I'm torn by forces, beyond my control
Subjected to change, over and over
I struggle so hard, to find a balance
In my mind,
my heart
and my soul

If there is one thing that's familiar, it's the feeling of loss,
Of being out of place, and longing for what's lost
Life as a shadow is only temporary,
I know it will end, I want it to end
But until it does, I keep existing in limbo
As a shadow,
Never truly part of the light.
Never truly part of the dark.

Once, I yearned for this gift
Made from tin, cold and unfeeling,
How could I not yearn for this pulsating *****
Warm and full of life

That breathes colours and sound to the pictures in my mind and the music in my soul
The final piece to make this tin man whole

O wizard, what foolhardy creation have I sought?
This wondrous yet dreadful lump of flesh
A living repository of despair
Of trembling hands
Of stuttered words
And of gasping breaths

O wizard, what misery your magic has brought
An ***** so frail and weak
Given to fanciful imagination
Chained to wanton desire and emotion
Swayed by what-ifs and pained by forget-me-mots

O Wizard, take from me that which you have wrought
Give me back the hollow comfort of metal
Of the cold void, quiet, unfeeling and unchanging
Make me what I was always meant to be.
A tin man through and true.

1....5....20....100....500
In the silence of midnight madness
My mind ticks frantically
My herd grows by the hundred
780.....1000.....3000.....8000
In the silence of creeping dawn
My heart beats in a frenzy
My herd grows by the thousand

Rivulets of icy water run over my body
Memories, sounds and words swirl in my mind
None finds purchase, in this cleaning flood

My thoughts are heavy in this solitude
Today as always, my mind strayed
To a dream, a bizarre manifestation of my fears
In this dream, I met my inner demon

A familiar tableau, sat in an endless space
A square table, with no seat of power or place
Two chairs, worn by our backs and butts
But equal, balanced, in all its edges and cuts
It evokes a sense of equality, of balance
A set of scales sits on the table
The scales hold two stones, one blue, one white
Also balanced to the naked sight.

I sit in the chair, to the left, where I belong
In my usual clothes, plain and worn
He approaches, my demon, my mirror, my friend of old
His clothes, his face, his carriage, everything I am not

He sits opposite me, symbolic, different, as he always has
We share a drink in silence, no words need be said
He knows my thoughts, and I, his,
A casual observer would think us friends, and he'd be right
My demon is me, who I am,
Who I was
and who I'm meant to be

I look into his eyes
He stares back, unblinking, patient, as always
He looks the same, much as I do
A dark face, with slight in-set eyes
A pug nose sits over thick lips
A quirky slant to his eyebrows and a confident tilt to his chin.
A gleam of mischief lurks in his eyes

My demon, my mirror, a reflection of my dark side
A creature of different persuasion and intent
But at the core, he has and will always be me.
Every second of my life, he has been there.
The avatar of my fears, doubts and insecurities
His voice, a constant refrain in my mind, haunting
In the ignorance of youth, I called him a demon
A monster guilty of the quiver in my voice,
The chill of icy fear in my blood,
the clouds of depression over my head
He was the cause of my failures

But as I look into his eyes, I see the end is near
The shadows under his eyes, the tremble in his hand, I fear
But I'll ignore it, for now, and raise my glass in a toast
To my demon, my mirror, my reflection, my friend
He is but what I made him to be

I am his beginning and his end
I made my demon
I will be the end of him

He spoke, my demon, in a voice just like my own

"One day I will be no more" 
"One day, I will die", He said
A sad smile split my lips
"I know you will fight as long as you can"
"I know you will try and stop me"
"But now I know, that you can't"
A wry grin split his face.

My demon has made me stronger
I knew it
And he knew it
How could I hate him for that
We sat in silence and drunk
To our past and our future
My demon and I

I wonder what it feels to be strong
To stand tall, to feel in charge all day long
Would my bones be made of steel, my heart of stone
Would lightning in my veins, make me bold

Would the constant tremor of my soul stop
Would my fears of people, things, all drop
Would I stop thinking about anything and everything
All at once
Would my thoughts be still and placid like a lake
And world seem bright and cheerful, not so gray and fake

I wonder if that's how it would feel
To be brave, to not let my fears rule me
To stand tall, to face the world, smile and be just me
To be who I am and everything I want to be
To go the extra mile, always with a smile
And face the world, free of fear

In my mind plays a reel of remembrance
My senses quicken again and again
At the glimmer of mischief in your eyes
At that dimpled coquettish smile;
At the sound of your husky cheery laugh;
At the lingering warmth of your feverishly warm skin;
At the soothing allure of your fragrance
At that taste of velvety bliss

In the shadowed recesses of my mind
Lingers this pale ghost of you
A shade of memories;
of things of joy;
things of pain;
and things of grief

How many memories, sweet and sad
Bind you to the cobwebbed hollows of my mind
O'miserable shade, persisting in such tortured misery
Would that I could bleed your essence onto these white sheets
Would that I could release you from your earthly bonds
But...could i be so cruel?

Writing has ever been a balm for my tortured mind
A release from worldly woes, an exorcism of  negative mental humours
Writing memories down kills them
Of course it does.
Words aren’t meant to be stiff, unchanging things,
Bereft of life, colour and scent
Ink on these white sheets will not mean life but death

But it's time.
Time to end this meaningless dance with the ghost of you.
Time to release you from this spectral coil.
This time, I'll write it all down and be free.

The rain had ever reminded me of you.
Odd isn't it?
Of all the elements of this world
It is not the warm cheery sun
Nor the cool breeze
Or even the fluffy clouds that reminds me of you.
No, it's always the rain.

It starts with a drop or two.
Tip tap tip tap
Then a dozen drops kiss the parched earth.
Pitter patter pitter patter
Every leaf feels the soft wet touch of their caress as they fall, leaving trails of their passing.
The sky murmurs
In annoyance or relief?
It's hard to tell sometimes
Other times it rages...that's unmistakable

A few drops can be easily dealt with
They're enjoyable even....refreshing
A light drizzle, an inconvenience but manageable
A downpour
A disappointment for what we want to achieve for a time but still it could have been worse
A storm...a force of nature that obeys not even the laws of physics
A storm that rips trees from the earth, pulls down walls and bowls over firm buildings

It is said that the eye of a storm is the most calm place to be.
But only for a brief time...certainly not enough for it to be any form of relief.
That's how you were.
I enjoyed the brief moments....the drizzle....before it all went downhill and sadness and conflict became the norm
As it were, from a downpour into a storm.

The portents of doom were all on the horizon. But human beings are always blind to the existence of things which we do not wish to believe.
In hindsight....ah what does it even matter now.
What is the use of wisdom after the fact.
I will not speak of the lessons learnt after nor acknowledge them.
I know better sure but then again I also know that hindsight is  *****.
The latter I think is the more relevant lesson