On a windless day of wandering egos,
which clash against their imperfections;
No longer steeped in greed and grief,
to seek vacant and useless reflections.

As shadows drift along naked trees,
telling macabre stories of imminent plots;
Aspiring to grasp beyond their motives,
twisting all hearts and minds into knots.

If we could only find some refuge,
from these ghostly images that assail;
Upon the innocence the lies far below,
each strong and soulful attempt to prevail.

Life is never what it appears to be,
when solemn darkness invades the heart;
With ghastly sounds of wrenching pain,
in haunting echoes that will not depart.

But shadows often often know their place,
when faith and courage both awaken;
Dispelling fears with strength of Will,
and the good Lord's divine intervention.