I see her standing there.

As light as a feather.

She's not casted by the light

Or anything scientific.

She doesn't react to weather

But stands there silently.




She's so angelic

Never heard her voice.

But she's heard mine.

She's with me every moment.

She is my soul

I've named her Shadow.

Because that's what she is.




She cringes at the day time

She doesn't like the sun light.

She appreciates the night time

She looks out my window every night

Crying at the moon,

Holding her hand out for stars




And when I try to talk to her.

She unfurls her mysteries.

And those wings is what I see.