I walk the streets of the old dark town,
It’s late and it is beautiful
I walk the streets of an empty quiet town,
Curtains shuffle but the floor and doors stay ever-static.

I dance with the shadows that meet me at each streetlight
and box with my ethereal friends when they want to see me fight.
Cold nights are permeated by spiritual warm love,
The shadows behind me and the light of sanctity above.

Bridges are fragile and wooden so
I break down rotting walkways.
Chips of the past are my kindling if the light of my internal lantern is dwindling.