Trailing down the shape of you I shine in the sun
By your effort I stand to exist
For your survival I rush to protect
In your fear I let off a warning
From your arousal I make your desires known
Miles I live under your surface
Ready to pour and have you glisten before all
A silvered surface transcends you to a being whom captures the light
You are a child of the stars, shining as they do

A color I am not, but a wave locked by your eyes
From sight alone I transcend the ephemeral
By the beholder I am captured
As brief as the flash of a buttersflight
Timeless in the moment a cloud catches the light
A glimpse of moonrays striking through mist
Torn open to prize mother of pearl
In the slick of man's pollution coating the world
Lathered in suds, as way to make amends
I do not exist to stay in your world, yet you bind me in chains of sight

On a walk I stand before the cast of a park sprinkler
Within my periphery is an arc immaterial
Glancing up and through
A rainbow of moonlight plays along the mist kissing my face
Short lasting and without color
I move along the waters path to catch its glimpse once more

I am the monster in chains held by a lock of my own teeth
I am the lure that controls the angler fish
I am the wolf in sheep's clothing that wishes to be the sheep
I am a friend of the humanity I wish to destroy

Spending my days in total fear
Can't even enjoy a single beer
It's the atoms you see
They're just messing with me
Blazing around I have a hunch
Watching videos is not what I want to be doing on my lunch
But hey, just between me and you, I don't think any of us know what we want to do

As a kid I used to be a poet
But with how hard it is for me to talk now you just wouldn't know it
Picking up hobbies like their mints from hotel lobbies
I can take a deck of cards and magic trick it, but that is certainly no meal ticket

Screaming and damning the heavens Misting the winds red with a raw throat
Sewing seeds of knuckles
Pounding my fury into a grave not yet dug

I am the noble locked high away in the tower
I am the dragon below that seeks to devour
I am the gate, the parapet, the halls, and oobleette
Filled with treasures hoarded away, a gem not out of set

The dragon, born of the castle, grew along side the noble
Who stared out in awe of the world, tottering on a crooked crenellation
Being of beast its instincts and hunger took an earlier maturation
Yet unable to reach out of the walls, swipes of flame could still be sent
Scorches and nicks began to fill the gardens
While the noble tasked to straightening the stones

It took age to understand. To have the ground work for what a dragon is. Seeing it grow day by day, until dawning on the noble. The beast's head would eventually peak over the walls, know the world, and take flight. With a rush of horror, chains were built to tie down the monster. Posted inside, access only to the halls, soon separated down to the dungeons and locked below. A monster of anger blew its flame igniting the ceiling stone. Away to the highest point the noble ran, abandoning the keep if only not to burn their feet.

With the dragon out of sight and still seeking to view the world, the noble turned to making connections. But the igneous stone radiated. With each scorch left on those invited to the castle, a new brick made it's way. A decorative curtain of stone to dome the palace. Nary a brick letting in an ounce of sky, with a sliver of a gate.

The noble turned away from the world, thinking there was only pain to cause. They took shelter and sweltered. Waiting one day for a knight to break down the walls. Hoping a champion could stand the dragons heat and not turn. The noble led those in not burned by the stones. Letting them walk the halls, pointing out the ****** holes and pitfalls, the traps on display. Yet still leading them to a monster unconquered.
All fled to from the heat onrushing the dungeons depth, not even to see a claw.

Stood one knight that cooled the earth they walked. Stood one knight that wished to share the treasures scalding to touch. Stood one knight, a castle of their own. Yet chased away they were too. With a slackening of the chain, the grounds they left. Chased away by the noble who thought the knight could do not be harm.

With the knight came others, a company of compatriots. Combined they stood and made way. Presented pictions of well managed gardens. Of their own crumbling walls and remortared stones. Courage the noble took from them. To reach out and take a hand from them.

Tame the dragon
No more can this go on
I have to take control
The castle diagrams still exist
I used them to build the tools that made the lock
They're in disrepair, but can be mended
I must start now building. It will take time and stone, but I have the will
Down comes the dome
Repurposed to entry arches
I will turn that hated heart into enveloping warmth
I will open the treasury and share the treasures collected, the views I've obtained
I will come down from my tower and walk the halls of my body once more

Child of stars borne of flesh
A construct seeking nature's freedom
Waylaid by the vortex of modernity's daunting delights
The choice of void bulwarked by the infinite
Pleasure found in the details of grains and the mountains they build
The people we find, the companions we choose, are anchors against the storm
Stop a moment with me to smell the flowers burning in the garden
Look upon the wall of grey, see the rainbow cast
Find the absurd in the mundane

The stars from on high have been grabbed by hands on low
Cast from the skies the twinkle across the earth
Once seen in the heavens, now blinded by self made brilliance
Lost is the marvel of nature to the glory of machine

I sit out here upon my swiveled throne of humbled resplendence
Granted a momentary reprieve from work as storage is shuffled out
The early day's cool dance in contrast to the sun's blinding warmth

When the sun sinks low,
and the world dissolves into its own dark,
does the shadow mourn the light,
its purpose stolen by the stars?
Or does it slip away unseen,
folding itself into corners
only the forgotten can reach?

Does it dream of being whole—
not the absence of something
but something itself,
a figure unbound
from the body it mimics?

When dawn stretches its golden fingers,
does the shadow flinch,
or does it rise in quiet obedience,
grateful for another day of following,
of existing only as a reflection
of what it can never become?

And when no one is watching,
does the shadow step ahead
just once,
to feel what it’s like
to be?