In form alone in shape it thrives it shifts and shouts it lies in terror. I wonder where I know it from and who it is and where's the gun... But the body it held the secrets it whispers I cannot know for my tongue's like a bell. The final knell that soul did hear was grave and sharp that much is clear.
Sometimes, we can be this chalk form. Shadows of ourselves. Ghosts in our own dreams and nightmares.