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Rollercoaster Jan 2021
Shadows are impersonations.
They move around
In the sneakiest of ways.
Lurking and inching and cheating.
Trying to escape the mirror.
The darkness died when the hero won.
It didn’t.
It just followed them, lurking to get back.
The core is darker of the fake.
They’re dark,
because they tell them of the time gone by.
In monochrome,
the color died, it lives in the real world now.
I don’t have a shadow.
I am one.
William Marr Dec 2020
noticing the sky has raised its eyebrows
and darkened its face
the shadows stop
their singing and dancing
and vanish
without a trace

leaving the dark ***** business
to poets and fools
to explore
and expose
In the field
The harsh and empty field
Something doesn't leave me
A shadow may be

With the wind
it moves
With the sun
it shines
And in the night
it does'nt die

Inmortal is my soul
My ached soul
That keeps me moving
in the eternal dancing
kay Dec 2020
though our wind no longer swayed in the same direction
though our sun doesn't rise at the same time
and though our ocean doesn't bear the same wave
my dear,
I've always prayed
from the inmost part of my soul
that your path will always be filled with joy and happiness
and that everything around you
will also radiate warmth
so that the dark lacuna and the brisk part of this world
won't make you feel left alone

so that neither solitude
nor my absenteeism
will cast you away to the brink of inconsistency
and self-loathing

until then . . .
Mystic Ink Plus Dec 2020
If you think
You are in the darkness
Yet see your
Shadow
Still you are in the light
A night like that
And that light will
Lead you

A journey to endeavor
Genre: Inspirational
Theme: The grace of the moon
JKirin Dec 2020
Meant to flower and blossom with power,
Seeds are planted with care (here, there).
But we’re lost in the shadows – we’re graceless.
Empty masks are around us – they’re faceless.

What becomes of us (empty and hollow)?

Not a flower with a powerful glow.
‘Cause a seed, as you know, doesn’t grow,
When it’s hidden so deep in the darkness.
Will the light and its warmth ever find us?
clmathew Dec 2020
the singing sun
written december 9th, 2020

the sun sings to me
of sweet shoots and stems

while darkness dictates descriptions
of decay and disintegration

i have spent lifetimes
concealed in the dark

now i want to walk
from the darkness
into the singing sun.
Lots of light and dark in my poems lately. Today on my walk I enjoyed walking from the shadow into the sun, and back again. Came home and wrote this.
Moe Dec 2020
your lips are bleeding
somehow the attraction persists
a dream awoken and the realization only
makes the sunrise that much louder
exhausted like a different direction
and the destruction was intentional
starting the next part
one round in the chamber
coming and relapsing into it all
like a year ago
nothing is a song
i am pretending to walk in circles
not taking to you
calling out
no echo
it's all fabrication
the lost distance in your eyes
this is all textbook insecurity
a shared life experience
it's still hard to hear your shadow
it's  unsupportive and I'll remember the final seconds
and meaning is not important
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