It's a sacred matter
Our holy fight
An anniversary

The remnants of yester year
Shackles
I wear them like accessories
What's the weight?

My dark persona
Always wanting and hungry
Shady
A loyal companion
Panting
At my side

Sometimes at heel
Sometimes far off
Roaming free
Out of sight out of mind

No worries
It has my scent
It will always find it'S way back to me
No point in trying to outrun your own shadow