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Sam Winter Feb 2016
O*ne-thirty in the morning, I'm creeping, ever-so-swiftly, to the entrance to my favorite public sculpture park. I don't like the sculptures, but I like their shadows. There's so much hidden meaning in what you see when you look at a shadow.... Thousands of years ago, the sun was worshiped as a life-giver - the ultimate source of everything man needs to survive: food, water, shelter, companionship.

     Shadows are the only thing that light will never reach.

     I don’t have an MP3 player, but I have music. Tonight, my playlist starts with Yellowcard’s *Lights and Sounds
…I sing it lowly to myself as I approach the darkened rebar fence that acts as sentry, guard, arbiter, and jailer to the inanimate zoo they contain. Rebar is always rusty. My hands wrap themselves around two of the bars as I ready myself for the heave overboard.

     I’m over the motor gate, now, and I’m free. The police don’t patrol the park, and there are other cars populating the lot I parked in. Too many people work too late. A girl I know told me that the quality of one’s life is multiplied by two for every three hours of sleep one gets – she told me this at three a.m. after we’d painted the town red. Someone else told me that for every eight hours of sleep one loses in a week subtracts, roughly, a week from one’s life expectancy. If that’s true, and I was supposed to die at seventy, I’ll be dead at sixty. But, honestly? I don’t care how long I live. I’m ready to die now. I mean, I don’t want to die now – it isn’t my preference of events – but, I’m at peace with how I’ve lived my life; so if I do die, I’ll die happy…. What was I talking about? Right, “Too many people…” So, why, if they’re going to die (because even if we distract ourselves, like Mr. Ivan Ilyich, we will die), do they seek these self destructive courses through life? Staying up to finish the quarterly report; dying of hunger to lose some weight; falling asleep at work, and getting assigned more late-night work as punishment; buying things no one will see; dressing up to impress those that don’t matter; dying for that promotion; dying for that car; dying for that girl; dying for that guy….dying.

     I look at my hands as I walk into the shadows of trees and gazebos. Rebar is always rusty…and rust is always red. Now I look as though I’ve killed. My hands are the evidence that I’ve wrung the life out of an innocent metal gate-post. I’d like to plead insanity. I’ll take the ten years in solitary confinement, please.

     I pull a left, then a right, then a left, then a right, then a left, then a right…actually, I’m wandering – no, meandering – through the park, with Hans Zimmer’s Davey Jones Movement roaring in my head; I meander in time with the music. My feet take me to the places I like best. Places where the night looks back at you; where you have to force yourself to set your gaze. Try staring into pitch blackness sometime. It’s not a comfortable feeling. I’ve heard that darkness is where evil resides. I think darkness is misunderstood…like the nature of “evil.” Sit opposite a weird, 20th-century abstract three-dimensional art piece, and stare, hard, into the darkness at its heart. There are stories there. So many unanswered questions can be answered when you ask those things that can’t give you a tangible answer.

     I’ve counseled with the shadows; now for therapy: interpretive dance accompanied by a healthy dose of therapeutic screaming. I sing a lot. You never notice how quietly you have to sing in public until you really need to sing. That’s why there are shadows. They listen very intently, don’t think you’re strange, and soak all pain, pleasure, anger and fear you might sing to release. Something by Vampire Weekend is jamming in my head, and this time, I’m singing along….

     To the shadows.

     Snippets of opera pieces start fluttering through my head. Accompanied by Ugandan chants, and Pawnee ritual songs. And I’m dancing around the shadow of a fire.

     If you never felt pain, how would you know what pleasure felt like? So I celebrate it; by exhaling it in a chorus meant only for the stars, and shadows, and ghosts. I celebrate, dancing in the darkness, waving my arms at the veil of clouds and the stars behind them; I hop to one foot, and wobble in step with the music in my head, and the words on my lips. I hop to the other, and jump at the crescendo of sounds in my mind, those sounds flushing me clean of the hurt, and pain, and grief that plague every creature that may consider why he’s been hurt. In mid flight, I feel the brief weightlessness of flight, hovering in the heavens. Caught between the clouds and the shadows, I close my eyes, and leave my time of arrival a mystery to myself; the last of my cares escapes me, and as I touch the soft, dewed earth, I am delivered.

     Now I can commune, freely, with these dark places. Don’t Let Me Down, by the Stereophonics comes to mind. Have you ever been let down? Of course you have. You are every day. Every hour. I am. Every day, every hour. It’s life. I think we expect too much of ourselves…of others. That animal desire to improve ourselves and our conditions drives us to expect the impossible. And the animal desire to improve our chances of success in life tell us we’ve failed when we, well…fail. The pits of our souls know better, though. They see the whole instead of those precious few real failures. They’re as dark as night, herself. She’s listened to our hearts tear themselves apart. The weight of failure is overwhelming, but the shadows lend shoulders to bear the weight with us…to lighten the load. I’ve told them how it feels to be human, now they show me how it feels to not care.

      “Don’t Let Me Down”, they plead. The bluesy, wailing lyrics fit the moment: all of the emotion of celebration and sorrow wrapped into one tangled poem. My arms climb above my head, wrapping around themselves, snaking through the air, as I dance with the absence of light…as I embrace the objectivity that knows how to evade the sun.

      Wisdom, is wisdom, is wisdom; truth on the lips of the devil is still truth. And I’ve listened.

     Now those great, and wise shadows bear my weight effortlessly, and I can relax. I find myself exhausted, and legs give way to putty; I find myself flat on my back. Now I lie upon the grass, touched by the places where light never will.

      The color black is said to be so because it absorbs all the colors of the spectrum. That it takes, and never gives. Like Salt Lake. It’s said that anything that never gives, dies. Like Salt Lake. But can death die twice? How much more can shadows absorb than colors? What else can shadows absorb? I think black is a wonderful color. Like shadows. And they both give. To give by taking; what a wonderful idea…. They’ve filled a very hard niche to fill in this world.

      My legs and lungs compete in me, burning, exhausted, and happy. I let the veil slip from my face, and the shadows watch me smile; my big, goofy, elated grin thanking them for listening. There’s no fear in my gut, no depression crushing my chest. The doubt and loneliness and helplessness cannot touch me.

     I am the shadow of pain. The shadow of fear. The shadow of the pull and push of life.

     They will never reach me.

     The world would be a better place if we sung to the shadows instead of running from them. You can’t touch one, like you can people; but they can’t hurt you, either – like people can. Someone told me that you can’t depend on people, because they will always let you down. I think I’ll keep trusting, and sing when they do.
Yue Wang Yidhna Dec 2017
Story by: Yidhna
Written in Chinese By: Yidhna Yue and Ezio Fu
Translated in Full by Yidhna

1.“Light and Darkness”
Another myth
The Monomyth
Symphony of a war
A war of the light
and Dark
A war in the myth
Myth of the black moths
Myth of the fireflies
From the beginning of
The universe
That which is also the end of time
Life, like the phoenixes,
Ends end with new life

For light and for darkness
For love and for destruction  
I am a knight
I am a knight
For light and for darkness
For love and for destruction
I am a dynast
I am a dynast

Stars, as heaven sent Guardians
Fall from the sky
As snow flakes fall from the sky
Fall to the their rebirth
Fall to their renaissance
as Fireflies
Fireflies of the righteous path
Fireflies of light
They will return
as stars in the night sky
For light and for darkness
For love and for destruction  
I am a knight
I am a knight
For light and for darkness
For love and for destruction
I am a dynast
I am a dynast

From swamps of darkness
Flows the corrupted
In the caves of darkness
In the forms of black moths
Tarring the world with the wickedness
without heart without hope
Rebirth in the night
Without light
For light and for darkness
For love and for destruction  
I am a knight
I am a knight
For light and for darkness
For love and for destruction
I am a dynast
I am a dynast

For light and for darkness
For love and for destruction  
I am a knight
I am a knight
For light and for darkness
For love and for destruction
I am a dynast
I am a dynast

2.“The Fireflies”
Without hope, who yet lives?
Within darkness, who yet saves?
Flames of light?
Flames of heart?
Or faith, and loyalty to faith
When Irises
No longer shines
When golden armors
Scars like flesh
They will still use blood
To light up belief
and bravely awaits the new dawn
Fallen from the stars
They are the warriors
They are the saviors
They are the fireflies
They are the fireflies
In love they will return as star lights
In death they will return as star lights
In death they will return as star lights
Time endless War eternal
Light and darkness mourn for peace
Light, fireflies,
and
Heaven sent star lights
Under the dark nights
When time dies
When time ends
Losing its dark and light
The fireflies still sing
Sing toward a path to truth
Living in faith, living in love
Living in the rebirth, renaissance
As stars from the sky
Fallen from the stars
They are the warriors
They are the saviors
They are the fireflies
They are the fireflies
In love they will return as star lights
In death they will return as star lights
In death they will return as star lights
Guardians of the righteous path
Guardians of the righteous light
Messengers of life: The fireflies
They are the stars
They are the stars
Fallen stars
When the green light
Loses its shine
When the flames of the fireflies
Loses its fading light
They will return to the heavens
Return to the sky
Like the legend of phoenix
Hope reborn with light
The promised hope in the starry night

3.“The Black Moth”
There’s love for the darkness
Love for their own kind
There’s hate for them too
Hate for the enemies
The black moth are born from shadows
The black moth will die into shadows
Shadowed in the forms of Black moths
The flee with flight
Then rebirth when died
As shadows of the Night(Light)
We are born from the darkness
Molded into the night
We will live within the cycle
We are the black moths
We are the black moths
Borne out of the shadows
As we live and die
As shadows of the dark nights
Different eyes
Sees a different world
If it never was
How can one say anything at all
Who to tell from right and wrong
When both light and dark are the purest
When all weapons only hinder
When all pride could only be humble
When you no longer look back
I will still follow
We are born from the darkness
Molded into the night
We will live within the cycle
We are the black moths
We are the black moths
Borne out of the shadows
As we live and die
As shadows of the dark nights
He doesn’t need love
To live lovely
He doesn’t need light
To feel proud
Just the opposite light
Just a prodigy’s right
Bravery in the darkness
For no one’s praises
When the light comes
In the last minute
We will vanish in peace
We are born from the darkness
Molded into the night
We will live within the cycle
We are the black moths
We are the black moths
Borne out of the shadows
As we live and die
As shadows of the dark nights
We are born from the darkness
Molded into the night
We will live within the cycle
We are the black moths
We are the black moths
Borne out of the shadows
As we live and die
As shadows of the dark nights


4.“The Red Firefly”
Born between light and darkness
I am an outsider
To this world
To time
To death
To darkness
To light
I am Andorhous
A messenger with a mission
To save time
I am Andorhous
The Red Firefly
The result of a mistake in time
I was born between two worlds
Birthed in Night and Light
I am the red firefly
I am the Hero of Time
I am Andorhous
The Red Firefly
The Red Firefly
The Red Firefly
Because of my birth
The Goddess of Time
Helyhna was never born
Time returns
and
All will die
At the Final Battle
Between Light and Dark
I am Andorhous
An error that brought the world’s end
I am Andorhous
I need to stop my birth
I was born between two worlds
Birthed in Night and Light
I am the red firefly
I am the Hero of Time
I am Andorhous
The Red Firefly
The Red Firefly
The Red Firefly
For I am an outsider
I can see what they refuse to believe
I understand the beginning
I understand the end
I understand the mistake I made
I am Andorhous
I will make my sacrifice
I am Andorhous
I will use a moment to bring back eternity
I will use a moment to bring back Immortality
I was born between two worlds
Birthed in Night and Light
I am the red firefly
I am the Hero of Time
I am Andorhous
The Red Firefly
The Red Firefly
The Red Firefly
I was born between two worlds
Birthed in Night and Light
I am the red firefly
I am the Hero of Time
I am Andorhous
The Red Firefly
The Red Firefly
The Red Firefly
5.“Guardian of Time”
Helyhna
The Goddess of Light
The Guardian of Time
The Eternal Angel
She was suppose to be born
At the beginning of time
To end time
She is the princess of
The Firefly Queen and King
She stopped and imprisoned time
So life lives
Eternally
However, a mistake made in time
A mysterious red light fallen from the sky
Suddenly raced toward the palace
And caused another creation to emerge
Instead
That creation was Andorhous
He who was birthed between dark and light
Where are you, Guardian?
Where are you, Helyhna
Instead Andorhous Born
Born from Darkness and Light
Torn from Darkness and Light
Where’s the Guardian
Where’s our Guardian
She who’s the Guardian
She who’s our Guardian
Guardian of Time
Thunder roaring
Clouds soaring
Endless darkness
Endless blood
Tearing the sky
Tearing time
When blood flows to the edge of the river death
When corrosion follows the dark end
No knights to guard
No light at the rim of the clouds
Listen to the people mourning
Look at the innocent withering
Who will protect us
Who will lead us out of the darkness
Where are you, Guardian?
Where are you, Helyhna
Instead Andorhous Born
Born from Darkness and Light
Torn from Darkness and Light
Where’s the Guardian
Where’s our Guardian
She who’s the Guardian
She who’s our Guardian
Guardian of Time
The sky darkening
Worlds Ending
Endless battles
Endless wounds
Battle to the end
Judgement at the end
Only the guardian Angel
Can bring peace back to the motherland
Where are you, Guardian?
Where are you, Helyhna
Instead Andorhous Born
Born from Darkness and Light
Torn from Darkness and Light
Where’s the Guardian
Where’s our Guardian
She who’s the Guardian
She who’s our Guardian
Guardian of Time
Where are you, Guardian?
Where are you, Helyhna
Instead Andorhous Born
Born from Darkness and Light
Torn from Darkness and Light
Where’s the Guardian
Where’s our Guardian
She who’s the Guardian
She who’s our Guardian
Guardian of Time

6.“The Choice”
Parallel universe
Another timeline
Helyhna
She said to me
Because of my Transtemporal birth
She doesn’t exist in my world
Because of the appearance of time
Eternity will die
Because of the Final Battle of Dark and Light
All will die
Because of me, the Red Firefly
Death or Imprisonment
What Do I choose
What Do I choose
Helyhna or Darkness
What do I do
What do I do
“Just an insect among life
What could I do
If all dies
I too will meet my demise”
Helyhna said calmly
“You can stop your birth”
“You will go back
Stop that falling red light
In the paradox
One version of you will die
And this you will be my imprisoned time.”
Death or Imprisonment
What Do I choose
What Do I choose
Helyhna or Darkness
What do I do
What do I do
Death or Imprisonment
What Do I choose
What Do I choose
Helyhna or Darkness
What do I do
What do I do

7.“The Final Battle”
In my hesitance
The sky
Marauded
The shadows of dark and light
Leaving only a rip of emptiness
Nothingless
In space and Time
The stars are shutting down their lights
The black moths and shadows are swallowed alive
All creatures are torn between
The ocean of sea and blood
I have decided
I stand corrected
I will bring back peace
I will bring back eternity
For the Guardian of Time
For the Guardian of Time
When silence in the air
Are broken by the screams of Darkness
When the remaining brightness
Are swallowed by the rip
In space and time
When two worlds are being swallowed by emptiness
I have decided
I stand corrected
I will bring back peace
I will bring back eternity
For the Guardian of Time
For the Guardian of Time
But, I could only remember Her
The guardian of time
I remember her countenance
I remember her pleading helplessness
I decided to go back to the beginning of time
Prevent my erred birth
Stop the mysterious red light
And
Return the Guardian
To Eternal Life
I have decided
I stand corrected
I will bring back peace
I will bring back eternity
For the Guardian of Time
For the Guardian of Time
I have decided
I stand corrected
I will bring back peace
I will bring back eternity
For the Guardian of Time
For the Guardian of Time

8.“I will stop time”


There’s only this way
An inevitable way
Yielding or fearing
Which is the tragic flaw
You look through the world
With a layer of tears
and have chosen the way
Because only through this choice
You see beauty of the eternal days
For love and For time
For darkness and for Light
I will create my unbirth
I will stop Time
I will stop Time
I will stop Time
For the Guardian
The Guardian of Time
I still remember Helyhna’s words
Prisoner or Freedom
Why choose Imprisonment
Because you don’t just have the darkness
But also the conscience of the light
You will always be an outsider to
Both dark and light
But you
You are Time
And I
I am the guardian of time
For love and For time
For darkness and for Light
I will create my unbirth
I will stop Time
I will stop Time
I will stop Time
For the Guardian
The Guardian of Time
For love and For time
For darkness and for Light
I will create my unbirth
I will stop Time
I will stop Time
I will stop Time
For the Guardian
The Guardian of Time

9.“The Prisoner of Life”
Andorhous lives beyond time
I can travel through time and space
Because I’m living within the error of eternity
Because I am that error
I am the limit, I am time
I flew toward the birth of Helyhna
To wait for the falling red light
When I finally realized
I am that red light
I caused my birth
I Surrender I Yield to Eternity
I am Time as I stopped Time
I am Time An anomaly
I am Time A Prisoner
Prisoner of Helyhna
The Guardian
My Guardian
Guardian of Time
Guardian of Life
I suddenly stopped flying
I finally realized that in this
Wheel of a storyline
I am that cause of abnormality
I caused my erred birth
Now that Helyhna’s safe born
I stayed in this timeline
And
Became Time
Or
Prisoner of Helyhna
The Guardian of Time
I Surrender I Yield to Eternity
I am Time as I stopped Time
I am Time An anomaly
I am Time A Prisoner
Prisoner of Helyhna
The Guardian
My Guardian
Guardian of Time
Guardian of Life
I am the narrator
I am the protagonist
I am the villain
I am the hero
I am Time
I am the prisoner of
The Guardian of Time
I Surrender I Yield to Eternity
I am Time as I stopped Time
I am Time An anomaly
I am Time A Prisoner
Prisoner of Helyhna
The Guardian
My Guardian
Guardian of Time
Guardian of Life
I Surrender I Yield to Eternity
I am Time as I stopped Time
I am Time An anomaly
I am Time A Prisoner
Prisoner of Helyhna
The Guardian
My Guardian
Guardian of Time
Guardian of Life
Tommy Randell Jan 2019
ONE

"Stopping the flow of our music was like stopping time itself - All that promise, all that light, and the quality of the shadows we cast, was gone."

I hear a Drum calling out to me,
Though the Drum hasn't been played
At all recently to my mind,
Certainly, as they say, not in haste.
I hear too a flute, rising to the beat,
But haven't witnessed one of those being played
Also it seems in some considerable time -
I admit then it must be my mental state.

The world is shrinking, as Time fades for me
The more often I tell visitors not to come.
But I do treasure those far away days when
The drumming made all worries disappear
And the quality of shadows in the room
Was lighter as the flute played inside my head
And the shadows outside in the world
Held less fear.

TWO

"Making music in a duet was like layering shadows -
Where the negative spaces dappled and flickered with our fire."

In the quality of life's shadows now
Memory gets dimmer the thinner it spreads -
The counting down of opportunities
Dwindling ahead.

We have lived years
Of distant knowing from afar,
Each of our lives lived out
Beneath independent stars.

A friendship of opposites,
In many ways
Non-touching parallels
In the straight-line choices made.

Rare days together we played music,
Sometimes, played at being in love -
But I wonder whether, if ever,
Either was enough?

Is it in the quality of such shadows now
Time too gets thinner the dimmer days become
And there are gathering ambiguities
In the failing light of love?

THREE

"In our duets music was built from silence in a very special way - It was like drawing curtains in a room to make people look more closely into the shadows."

I have too few souvenirs of you -
But more might only rankle now,
Like a list of things I have to do
To uphold some long forgotten vow.

Empty shelves are better
In matters of the heart -
I mean, If I had a box of your letters
Where precisely would I start?

I haven't played my drum
Since you have stayed away,
Yet I know it was my silence
Caused you not to come and play.

My fault then, to be so self conflicted,
To say I miss our music so,
Yet it was me that killed it -
Though why I still don't know.


FOUR

"Like looking into a river where the light cannot penetrate, it is in the quality of such shadows, insight and harmony are perceived, and so one sees one's own part in the music."

Together we made a river
When we played -
Downhill, always downhill
The beauty that we made.

From some locus between us
There would form a phrase,
A ripple in the stillness,
Making a sense of place.

At best, Time was created
Where rhythm found a name -
At most, sound was celebrated
In the artistry of embrace.

From a duet of plaited silver
Playful knots and shapes,
A cascade always tumbling -
Like beauty being explained.

Always that tension between us,
Always that twilight of dawn,
Always that quality of shadows,
Where some new purpose was born.

And if now the river has run
And what was travelled is lost,
If now the flute and the drum are gone
And the reality of shadows is dust,

No worries, no river is gone forever,
No music is ever complete,
In time, again, the shadows will gather
And our music will flow through the streets.

As life is all about the shadows within
So music is all about the flow of time.
As love is all about two hearts' rhythms
So our duet is not for me alone to decide.

"Many play duets all their lives without realising it is not the music they are searching for! - I was the lucky one then."
Not playing duets anymore after 25years.
Marina James Apr 2019
She hoped that monsters were just shadows sneaking around corners, but the shadows turned around and gobbled up the monsters. The shadows were still hungry, they are never satisfied, always lonely, always wanting more.

They kept creeping in the dark when no one could see them, looking for their next friend, victim, meal.

“Come to the darkness” they whispered to her. “We will accept you. You need no words with us. We understand you.”

Throughout her life, she tried to run from the shadows, always running to be in the light were she could keep an eye on the shadows. Unbeknown to her, the shadows were always there, right behind her, attached to her like a starfish to a rock.

Over time they leisurely engulfed her.
She did not even notice...
Slowly the colour faded from her world...

It felt like the shadows were running into her like a stripped faucet with water running into a sink. She could not stop it. The water rose and began to spill over the sink’s rounded edge. She could not breathe. And then it happened, the shadows were finally drowning her.  She tried desperately to reach for the surface, gasping for air, but the shadows were pulling her down into the abyss. “Don’t fight it” they whispered sweetly in her ear, caressing her soul. She started to panic. The more she fought the shadows, the heavier they became until she did not know where the shadows ended and she began...
Andrew T Hannah Jun 2013
The shadows are vacant souls that roam this land,
Forgiveness, a purpose and recognition is all they demand,
They stay hidden in the dark corners of your beautiful mind,
Only to make their unforgettable appearance and corrupt it over time,

They hide within the bleak darkness so they remain unseen,
Until the moment they choose to intervene,
With your daily life, dashing from the corners of your oblivious eyes,
They long to be recognised,
This is where it begins, the sharp turning of your head signals recognition,
You choose to ignore the sudden appearance and blame it on superstition,
You begin to wonder whether what you saw was real or simply your mind playing games,
Both is the answer, the shadows lurk within your mind, whispering your name,
The shadows are real and control your mind so they can know what it is like to live,
This is how they gain their purpose following the recognition, and to them you give,
A cluster of vague memories and a bundle of insightful thoughts,
With which they converse and about your life they are taught,

Some shadows just long for a companion - your thoughts or the voices,
Others want to control you and alter every one of your choices,
Some are lurkers and stay hidden until you are deceased,
And then they discover a new mind and the cycle repeats,
Some only occupy your mind for a short while,
Some need you to suffer and some need you to smile,
Some are passed love ones and some are strangers,
Some are frightened and are seeking shelter away from danger,
Most are harmless and desire to witness emotion once again.
Whether it be love, fear, sadness or pain,
They cannot feel any emotion and so latch onto an individual who is able,
But sometimes this person’s mind is unstable,
Sometimes the person cannot deal with the mixture of voices and shadows,
And they have a fear of the unknown,
They don’t have the ability to explain the phenomenon,
And it drives them insane and this is what certain shadows feast upon,

Shadows:  you see them out of the corner of your eye,
Shadows: they desire to be recognised,
Shadows: they desire freedom from the curse,
Shadows: they wish not to be stranded on this Earth.
Derick Van Dusen Nov 2010
Hot springs across the valley from the backdrop of the emerald green forest wall.
  Fog rolled in thicker and thicker with every passing minute bringing with it a stillness and a calm.
  A sharp strong beam of light cracks the night and falls against the forest backdrop.
  Little more than a slit of light really, penetrating through the fog and carrying with images disturbing of creatures great and small
  Creatures that had long sharp teeth, creatures that had heavy huge paws and fast long legs.
  Funny creatures and sad creatures too went calmly and serenely  galumphing through.
  Shadows here and shadows there shadows on that emerald  green see of forest falling before my gazing eyes.
  Puppets dancing at every command as if they were controlled by the trees them selves.  
  We see em there standing waiting in the dark knowing around the next sliver of light another will be.
  Are we creating them the puppets or is the forest really in control, of dancing the puppets we see.
  Elephants and Turtles, Bears and Rabbits, Giraffes and Ducks, Tigers and Mice around the next sliver of light.
  Oh we watched and were amazed by the shadows dancing on the forest wall and playing in the fog this night,
  Shadows made to be filled we filled full of community and strength held by a few shadow puppets on the forest.
  Shadows dancing, shadows playing, shadows pouring onto the emerald forest floor.
  Shadows lost there way again did they fall out of favor again oh no the light burned out the shadows stopped the hot springs was quiet.
  Play with your shadows remember when you made the puppets, out there the puppets where may as well been me as a kid again.
  Next time I go into the forest Im bringing my dancing shoes and Im playing with the shadows again.
Patricia Drake Mar 2013
That one night I took a shortcut
Through the open and moonlit park
From my friends I had been lost but
I just wanted to get past the dark

The Devil He dwells in the shadows

That night I heard a sound
Of footsteps not far behind me
To look I turned around
But nothing did I see

The Devil He dwells in the shadows

That night I continued to walk
Ignoring the sound in the leaves
It was a gigantic shock
When hands on me wandered like thieves

The Devil He dwells in the shadows

That night I tried to push him away
When upon me temptation he cast
My senses got blurred,  thoughts went astray
Succumbing to His will and fast

The Devil He dwells in the shadows

That night I saw his terrible face
Furrowed and darkened by time
Still his countenance bore a trace
Of something appealing to mine

The Devil He dwells in the shadows

That night I gave mySelf to Him
Bedazzled by words so sweet
I followed His every whim
And let him have me bleed

The Devil He dwells in the shadows

That night I heard a church bell call
So distantly played its tune
And on my knees it made me fall
I had to leave under the treacherous moon

The Devil He dwells in the shadows

That night I  bade Him let me go
Under the treacherous moon
He laughed at me and let me know
He would keep me at least until noon

The Devil He dwells in the shadows

That night He tortured my body and soul
His words were like poisonous spears
His tongue paved His way to His devious goal
He unleashed and tamed my fears

The Devil He dwells in the shadows

That morning when the daylight broke
My spirit had fallen to Him
And as the people in town awoke
My hopes of escape grew dim

The Devil He dwells in the shadows

That day at noon when the sun was high
The devil let go of my hand
His mark He had left inside my thigh
It looked like a crimson band

The Devil He dwells in the shadows

That day I finally left the park
Martered and trembling from pain
Forever I would stay out of the dark
Afraid that He'd find me again

The Devil He dwells in the shadows...
Keith J Collard Jun 2013
The Quest for the Damsel Fish  by Keith Collard

Author's  Atmosphere

On the bow of the boat, with the cold cloud of the dismal day brushing your back conjuring goose bumped flesh you hold an anchor.  For the first time, you can pick this silver anchor up with only one hand and hold it over your head. It resembles the Morning Star, a brutal medieval weapon that bludgeons and impales its victims.  Drop it into the dark world beyond the security of your boat--watch the anchor descend.
        Watch this silver anchor--this Morning Star--descend away from the boat and you, it becomes swarmed over with darkness.  It forms a ******-metallic grin at first as it sinks, then the sinking silver anchor takes its last shape at its last visible glimpse.  It is so small now as if it could be hung from a necklace.  It is a silver sword.  
Peering over the side of the boat, the depths collectively look like the mouth of a Cannibalistic Crab, throwing the shadows of its mandibles over everything that sinks down into it--black mandibles that have joints with the same angle of a Reaper's Scythe.  

I am scared looking at this sinking phantasm.  I see something from my youth down there in this dark cold Atlantic.  I see the silver Morning Star again, now in golden armor.  I remember a magnificent kingdom, in a saltwater fish tank I had once and never had again.  A tropical paradise that I see again as I stare down into the depths.  This fish tank was so beautiful with the most beautiful inhabitants who I miss.  Before I could lift the silver anchor--the Morning Star--over my head with only one hand, turning gold in that morning sun-- I was a boy who sat indian style, cross legged--peering into this brilliant spectacle of light I thought awesome.  I thought all the darkness of home and the world was kept at bay by this kingdom of light...

Chapter  1 Begins the Story

The Grey Skies of Mass is the Name of This Chapter.

                                                      ­­                        
    
 Air, in bubbles--it was a world beauty of darkness revealed in slashes of light from dashing fluorescent bulbs overhead this fish tank.
Silver swords of fluorescent energy daring to the bottom, every slash revealing every color of the zodiac--from the Gold of Scorpio to the purple of Libra combining into the jade of the Gemini. 
In the center, like a dark Stonehenge were rocks. The exterior rocks had tropical colors like that of cotton candy, but the interior shadows of the rocks that was the Stonehenge, did not possess one photon of light. The silver messengers of the florescent energy from above would tire and die at their base.  The shadows of the Stonehenge rocks would stand over them as they died.

 
          When the boy named Sake climbed the rickety wood stairs of the house, he did so in fear of making noise, as if to not wake each step.
   Until he could see the glowing aura of his fish tank then he would start down that eerie hall, With pictures of ghosts and ghosts of pictures staring down at him as he walked down that rickety hallway of this towering old colonial home.  He hurried to the glowing tank to escape the black and white gazing picture frames.
                    The faint gurgling, bubbling of the saltwater tank became stronger in his ear, and that sound guided him from the last haunt of the hallway-- the empty room that was perpendicular to  his room.   He only looked to his bright tank as soon as he entered the hallway from the creaky wooden steps.  Then he proceeded to sit in front of this great tropical fish tank in Indian style with his legs folded over one another as children so often would sit.
  The sun was setting.  The reflections from the tank were beginning to send ripples down the dark walls. Increasing  wave after wave reflecting down his dark walls.  He thought they to be seagulls flapping into the darkness until they were overcome as he was listening to the bubbling water of his tank.
                " Hello my fish, hello Angel, hello Tang, hello  Hoomah, hello Clown and hello Damsel … and hello to you Crab...even though I do not like you," he said in half jest not looking at the crab in the entrance of the rocks.  The rocks were the color of cotton candy, but the interior shadows did not possess a photon of luminescence.  All other shadows not caused by the rocks--but by bright swaying ornament--were like the glaze on a candy apple--dark but delicious.  Besides the crab's layer in the rock jumble at the center of the tank which was a Stonehenge within a Stonehenge--the tank was a world of bright inviting light.
                The crab was in its routine,  motionless in the entrance to his foyer, with his scythe-like claws in the air, in expectation of catching one of the bright fish someday.  For that reason the boy tried to remove the crab in the past, but even though the boy was fast with his hand, the optical illusion of the tank would always send his hand where the crab no longer was.  He did not know how to use two hands to rid the crab in the future by trapping and destroying the Cannibal Crab ;  his father, on a weekend visit, gave the Crab to the boy to put into the bright world of the saltwater tank, which Sake quickly regretted.  His father promised him that the Crab would not be able to catch any of the fish he said " ...***** only eat anything that has fallen to the bottom or each other..."

         A scream from the living room downstairs ran up the rickety wood and down the long hall and startled the boy.  His mother sent her shrieks out to grab the boy, allowing her to not have to waste any time nor calorie on her son; for she would tire from the stairs, but her screams would not, allowing her to stay curled up on the couch.  If she was not screaming for Sake, she was talking as loud as screams on the phone with her girlfriends.  The decibels from her laugh was torture for all in the silent house.   A haughty laugh in a gossipy conversation, that overpowered the sound of the bright tropical fish tank in Sake's room that was above and far opposite her in the living room.
               " Sake you have to get a paper-route to pay for the tank, the electricity bill is outrageous," she said while not taking her eyes off the TV and her legs curled up beside her.  He would glad fully get a paper-route even if it was for a made up reason.  He turned to go, and looked back at his mother, and a shudder ran through him with a new thought:  someday her appearance will match her voice.  

              Upon reaching his tank,  Hoomah was trying to get his attention as always.  Taking up pebbles in his big pouty pursed lips and spitting them out of his lips like a weak musket.  The Hoomah was a very silly fish, it looked like one of Sake’s aunts, with too much make up on, slightly overweight, and hovering on two little fins that looked incapable of keeping it afloat, but they did.  The fins reminded him of the legs of his aunt--skinny under not so skinny.’

               The Tang was doing his usual aquanautics , darting and sailing was his trick.  He was fast, the fastest with his bright yellow triangular sail cutting the water.  Next was the aggressive Clown fish, the boy thought she was always aggresive because she didn't have an anemone to sleep on.  The Clown was strong and sleek with an orange jaw and body that was built like a tigress.
  Sake thought something tragic about the body if the  orange Clown and the three silver traces that clawed her body as decoration -they reminded him of the incandescent orange glow of a street lamp being viewed through the rainy back windshield of a car.   The Clown fish was a distraction that craved attention.
The Clown would chase around some of the other fish and jump out of the water to catch the boy's eye. 
                 Next is the Queen Angel fish, she is the queen of the tank, she sits in back all alone, waving like a marvelous banner, iridescent purple and golden jade.  Her forehead slopes back in a French braid style that streams over her back like a kings standard waving before battle, but her standard is of a house of beauty, and that of royal purple.

                    Lastly is the Damsel Fish, the smallest and most vulnerable in the tank.  She has royal purple also, rivaling the queen. Her eyes are lashed but not lidded like the Hoomah.  Her eyes are elliptical, and perhaps the most human, or in the boy’s opinion, she is the most lady like, the Hoomah and the Queen Angel come to her defence if she is chased around by the Clown.  Her eyes penetrate the boys, to the point of him looking away.  

                      Before the tank, in its place in the corner was a painting, an oil painting of another type of Clown donning a hat with orange partial make-up on his face (only around eyes nose and mouth there was ghost white paint) and it  had two tears coming down from its right eye.  The Clown painting was given to him by his mother, it seems he could not be rid of them, but Sake at first was taken in by the brightness of the Clown, and the smooth salacious wet look of the painting. it looked dripping, or submerged, like another alternate reality.  The wet surreal glaze of the painting seemed a portal, especially the orange glow of the Clown's skin without make-up.  .  If he tried to remember of times  before the Clown painting that preceded the Clown fish, he thought of the orange saffron twilight of sunset, and watching it from the high window from his room in the towering house.  How that light changed everything that it touched, from the tree tops and the clouds, to even the dark hallway leading up to his room.  The painting and the Clown fish did not feel the same as those distant memories of sunset, especially the summer sunset when his mother would put him to bed long before the sun had set.  
Sake did not voice opposition to the Clown.
Then he was once again trapped by the Clown.  
            The boy was extremely afraid of this painting that replaced the sunsets , being confined alone with it by all those early bedtimes.
Sake once asked his mother if he could take it down, whereas she said " No."  That clown would follow him into his dreams, always he would be down the hill from the tall house on the hill, trying to walk back to the house, but to walk away or run in a dream was like walking underwater or in black space, and he would make no distance as the ground opened up and the clown came out of the ground hugging him with the pryless grip of eight arms.  He would then wake up amid screams and a tearful hatted clown staring somberly down at him from the wall where it was hung.  Night made him fear the Clown painting more;  that ghost white make-up decorating around the eyes and mouth seeming to form another painting in entirety.  He could only look at the painting after a while when the lights were on, and the wet looking painting was mostly orange from the skin, neck, and forearms of the hat wearing clown.  But the painting is gone now, and the magnificent light display of the tank is there now.  

                Sake pulled out the fish food, all the fish bestirred in anticipation of being fed.  The only time they would all come together; and that was to mumble the bits of falling flakes: a chomp from the Clown, a pucker from the Hoomah, the fast mumble of the Tang, and the dainty chew of the Damsel.  The Queen Angelfish would stay near the bottom, and kiss a flake over and over.   She would not deign herself to go into a friendly frenzy like the other fish; she stayed calm, yet alluring like a flag dancing rhythmically in the breeze, but never repeating the same move as the wind never repeats the same breeze.  She is the only fish to change colors.  When the grey skies of Mass emit through every portal in the house at the height of its bleakness, her colors would turn more fantastic, perhaps why she is queen.

                 He put his finger in the top of the watery world; the warmth was felt all the way up his arm.  After feeding, his favorite thing to do was to trace his finger on the top of the warm water and have the Damsel follow it. She loved it, it was her only time to dance, for the Clown would descend down in somewhat fear ( or annoyance) of the boys finger, and the Damsel and he would dance.  The boy, thought that extraordinary.

                     Sake bedded down that night, to his usual watery world of his room.  The reflective waves running down the walls like seagulls of light, with the rhythmic gurgling sound and it's occasional splash of the Clown, or the Hoomah swooping into the pebbly bottom to scoop up some pebbles for spitting making the sound "ccchhhhh" --cachinging  like a distant underwater register.  The tank’s nocturne sound was therapeutic to the boy.

                      Among waking up, and being greeted by his sparkling treasure tank--that was always of the faintest light in the morning due to the grey skies of Mass coming through every portal to lessen the tropical spectrum-- the boy would render his salutations " Good morning my Hoomah.....good morning Tang, my Damsel, and your majesty Queen Angel.....and so forth.  Until the scream would come to get him, and he would walk briskly past the empty room and the looming family pictures of strangers.  His mother put him to work that day, to "pay for the fish tank" but really to buy her a new cocktail dress for her nightly forays.  The boy did not care, the tank was his sun, emitting through the bleak skies of Mass, and even if the tank was reduced to a haze by the overcast of his life, it only added a log to the fire that was the tropical world at night, in turn making him welcome the dismal day.
                  On a day, when the overcast was so thick, he felt he could not picture his rectangular orb waiting for him at night. He had trouble remembering what houses to deliver the paper.  He delivered to the same house three times.  Newspapers seemed to disappear in his hands, due to their color relation to the sky.   Leaves were falling from the trees—butterfly like—he went to catch one, he missed--a first. For Sake could walk through dense thorned brambles and avoid every barb, as a knight in combat or someone’s whose heart felt the painful sting of the barb before.  He would stand under a tree in late fall, and roll around to avoid every falling leaf, and pierce them to the ground deftly with a stick fashioned as a sword.  He could slither between snow flakes, almost like a fish nimbly avoiding small flakes.  
                  After he finished his paper-route , he went to his usual spot under an oak tree to fence with falling leaves.  As the other boys walked by and poked fun he would stall his imagination, and look to the brown landscape of the dry fall.  The crisp brown leaves of the trees were sword shapes to him.  He held the battle ax shape of the oak leaf over his eye held up by the stick it was pierced through, and spied the woodline through the sinus of the oak leaf lobe.  The brown white speckled scenery, were all trying to hide behind eachother by blending in bleakfully; he pretended the leaf was Hector’s helmet from the Illiad—donned over his eyes.
“ Whatchya doing Sake?” asked a young girl named Summer.  Sake only mumbled something nervously and stood there.  And a pretty Summer passed on after Sake once again denied himself of her pretty company.  He looked to the woodline again, a mist was now concealing the tall apical trees.  It now looked like the brown woodland was not trying to retreat behind eachother in fall concealment, but trying to emerge forth out of the greyness to say "save us."

“ Damgf” he uttered, and could not even grasp a word correctly.  His head lifted to the sky repeatedly, there was no orb, and the shadows were looming larger than ever; fractioned shadows from tree branches were forming scythes all over the ground.
             He entered the large shadow that was his front door, into the house that rose high into the sky, with the simplicity of Stonehenge.  He climbed the rickety petrified stairs and went down the hall.  Grey light had spotlighted every frame on the wall.  He looked into the empty room, nothingness, then his room, the tank seemed at its faintest, and it was nearing twilight.  He walked past the tank to look out the w
Kulay Mar 2011
People are people.
Lies are lies.
People lie.
People are liars.
People live in the shadows of lies.
Admit it or not, we are all liars for we are people.
People hide through the shadows of lies.
Chained by the shadows of lies.
And hurt by the shadows of lies.

People are people.
Lies are lies.
People lie.
People are liars.
People live in the shadows of lies.
Admit it or not, we are people, others want to live in the shadows of lies.
Others choose to stay away from the shadows of lies.
Now tell the people where you are.
Living in or staying away from the shadows of lies?

People are people hiding through the shadows of lies.
People are people.
We all lie.
Yacov Mitchenko Nov 2019
Rilke's translated line
"You must change your life."
is not for everyone.
Rilke's Archaic Torso of Apollo
is not for everyone -
for who would dare to invite
its brilliance, who would care
to expose their inadequacies in that light?

What does timidity, cowardice, or envy -
what do these shadows suggest of beauty?
Oh, beauty must be callous, perhaps a child
of arrogance; the creator must be
a deficient woman or man -
and deficiencies in character there may be...
The shadows can breathe sighs of relief
at averting beauty's decapitation
or not quite coming to grief,
by finding a few spots in the artist or art,
sustaining the status quo of their heart.
What do the shadows do? What's their story?
Red herrings are their food: inadequacy
is blurred, muted
when shadows assume their masks of morality....

Rilke's translated line
"You must change your life."
is not for everyone.
Nooks and little corners
with slivers of the sun,
with a chessboard of shadow and light
may much better accommodate
the shadows' ways and very partial sight.
Shadows can be quite kind, generous,
touching at times on the magnanimous.
So long as the pretty bird doesn't fly too high,
a bird with many spots can be forgiven,
but not a wondrous bird, bird of genius,
the feathered word spoken by the heights of heaven.

Shadows can savor a milder, softer light,
shadows may yet take delight
in that light which caters to and confirms
their beliefs: the light is beautiful, strange,
because it's challenging only in name,
because it invites no radical change.
Shadows take delight,
feeling self-justified in milder light.

Shadows may express
sorrow at genius neglected, one day,
when a genius has passed away.
A museum built in his honor,
a festival held in his honor -
these are no problem now that he's gone...
So continues the shadow-game
as a new genius will face the same.

Rilke, I invite the brilliance
   that suffuses
         the Archaic Torso of Apollo.
I don't matter...
My feeling of disturbance at great beauty -
that feeling doesn't matter...
There's timidity, cowardice, envy in me...
Let beauty in all its glory
      descend
              
                  fluttering
                          
                       shattering me
Rilke's poem "Archaic Torso of Apollo" is highly recommended, if you haven't already read it. It's all about the power of beauty, and how it can transform one's life - if one is sufficiently receptive.

The poem has been slightly revised, by the way...
B Sonia K Mar 2019
Surrounded by darkness
Shadows after shadow
All in stealthy movements
Looking to devour the unknowing,
Cataracts of murky waters unfolding
To cultivate an abysmal knowledge of possession
Laying in wait

Surrounded by shadows
The unknowing gullible prey
Gallivanting in the coolness of the shadows
Traveling on unpaved roads
In company of the unseemly
Glorying in a flowery mask of gloomy interactions
A facade capturing the mind of a dunce

Sounds of laughter in triumph
Emanating from the shadows
A perfectly plan of possession
With full-on persuasion
Fastidious dressing on a palatable decision
Congratulatory claps and smacks
At a job well done
Oblivious of an impending failure
Coated in a ray of light

The sun rays stands at attention
Catapulting its existence
Into the murky waters
Shooting its rays through a pinhole
With boundless powers
Yet seeking a limitless entrance
With the unknowing gullible prey at the door
Holding a key in a game of indecision
Salivating over the promises in the shadows
And the fulfillment of lascivious desires

The sun awaits your attention
Banging at the door gently
With healthy promises
The high heavens can checker
With words spoken larger than life
Saturating every nook and cranny
With light, life and love
And a thundering presence
Annihilating every shadows is its path.

Doors open
A pinhole becoming a tearing limitless ****
The sun rays stretching forth
Inciting a dance with its panther like gait
Over-powering the sniveling shadows
Punctured deceptive walls left behind
Emptying shadows filled up with light
On its face a triumphant grin.

In the shadows
I opened the door to the light of the sun
I was the unknowing gullible prey,
Now, I AM THE SUN.
Mike Hauser Mar 2016
Standing in the shadows
Of the many years
Between wars amongst our fathers
In the shape of mother's tears
Shadows growing long as
These days that now they pierce
Standing in the shadows
Of the many years

Standing in the shadows
As we're killing time
Hoping for the day when
We're saved by candlelight
Blending in the best we can
By way of the shifting night
Standing in the shadows
As we're killing time

Standing in the shadows
Because the shadow knows
There is no where else about
For a soul to go
That has gone through all of this
So many times before
Standing in the shadows
Because the shadow knows

Standing in the shadows
Out of our own fear
Rumors of the end times
Are drawing ever near
Between wars amongst our fathers
In the shape of mother's tears
Standing in the shadows
Out of our own fear
Justin G Feb 2015
In the light
Shadows are prisoners
And prisoners we are to our shadows
But if shadows could speak
I think they'll say

I am no prisoner
I am a but a listener
I guide the light
and shape
the stars
I am detailed
craftily inked
I am what links
us all



In the darkness*
Our shadows are free
And we are free from our shadows
But if shadows could speak
I think they'll say

I am beyond free
I am everywhere
omnipresent
and omniscient
I shade what most
aren't aware of
I am the protector
The keeper
of all secrets
I am defined
by none*


But if shadows could speak
I wonder if anyone
will still feel lonesome?
Born He,
Discovered She within,
Express her, teased, laughed at, pain,
Hide, act like the other little boys,
Smile, battle the pain, just be happy.
She moves within the shadows.

A shimmer of light, home alone,
A chance to grow, express her,
Caught, rejected, pain,
Hide, act like the other young men,
Smile, battle the pain, just be happy.
She moves within the shadows.

Married, wife, children, life is wonderful,
Baseball, Barbies, basketball, XOXO
Hide, act like the other husbands/dads,
Smile, battle the pain, just be happy.
She moves within the shadows.

Marriage issues, stress, depression,
Open up, wife confused, sad, sicken,
Rejected, pain, world collapsing,
Hide, act like the other husbands/dads,
Smile, battle the pain, just be happy.
She moves within the shadows.

Divorce on the horizon, feels like death,
Pain, hide, be strong in front of kids,
Smile, battle the pain, just be happy.
She moves within the shadows.

Seek help, Jesus, therapy, Trinity UMC,
Strong growing support, acceptance,
Others with pain, be Her,
Smile, battle the pain together, finding happiness.
She moves slightly out of the shadows.

Divorce still on the horizon, still feels like death,
Kids all young adults, happy, healthy, informed,
Out to them, accepted, love I've only dreamed of,
Smile, battle the pain together, finding happiness.
She moves out of the shadows a little more.

To Be Continued . . .
Feb. 4, 2015

Update Nov 2016
I will be presenting this piece at TDOR (Transgender Day of Remembrance) Ceremonies in Austin Texas. City Hall Nov. 20th
Now's the time where magic starts to change the world we see
Where mist and moonlight intersect making everything anew
Darkness spreads it's blanket and it grasps the fading light
As the devil dances with the shadows on the moon

Children run from house to house begging for one treat more
While in the darkness, evil waits to venture from the void
The innocence is fleeting as it ends before the hour
While the devil dances with the shadows on the moon

Gargoyles break their concrete holds and spread their wings to fly
Taking back the night before the dawn of a new day
Evil hides in alleyways in costumes we all know
While the devil dances with the shadows on the moon

No zombie walks or howling wolf is out upon this night
Creatures of the past are waiting to come forth
Imaginary monsters to keep children in their beds
While the devil dances with the shadows on the moon

At midnight proper all will change and souls will be reborn
And those who signed a pact will fade away
Transferring souls on this dark night happens without noise
While the devil dances with the shadows on the moon

Witches fly among the clouds on broomsticks we are told
But these are only stories spread to keep the good at bay
The night sky is inhabited by those who fear the light
While the devil dances with the shadows on the moon

The sun will rise as it always does with the night before laid waste
As the gargoyles settle in as guardians for the year
One night is all the devil has to gather up his treats
and wait again in darkness to dance with the shadows on the moon
KJSC Jul 2013
You can try to light up the shadows
But then all you're left with
Is a blurry space that used to separate light and dark
Now everything that used to make you smile
Makes you sad
And being sad
Spreads a reverse frown across your cheeks
So you try to shine a new light on your shadows
But it will blur out the boundaries
And end up casting even more shadows
Speckled across other aspects of your life
The act of trying to light up the most places in our lives
While leaving the smallest shadows
Is simple human nature
You can keep adding light
Add the sun and the stars
But there will always be a place that looks darker than the rest
Because simply taking part in our own lives
Means that our lives will never be free of shadows

It's the reason why eulogies seem so nice
Because the dead have left their own lives for us to see
And their deaths have taken those nasty shadows with them
And all that are left
Are the small overlooked shadows
Technicalities of how the light falls
So even if the deceased have suffered through darkness
Their entire lives
Looking back with their eulogies
Compares their lives to blissful sunshine

For the way the light falls around us
Is not our decision
But if there is one thing for certain
It is that we are the biggest shadows
Our light-basked lives will ever meet.
Matt Sol Jan 2019
The clouds striate      
and stratify
into the gray.
In the divide
a candle bloom
consumes the night
as shadows stray,
and shadows stray,
to coalesce
and incarnate.
As shadows stray,
and shadows stray,
like travelers
of the arcane.

And thunder rolls
down a stale sky
into the fray
of a twilight.
A candle bloom
consumes the night
as shadows stray,
and shadows stray,
to coalesce
and incarnate.
As shadows stray,
and shadows stray,
like travelers
of the arcane.
Miranda Eckert Jan 2017
And now my heart 

Is breaking once again,

For the one who was my love,

The boy that was my best friend.

I bared to you my soul,

Let you glimpse the shadows 

That dwell beneath my eyes.

I threw to you every ounce 

Of love I’d ever known, 

Hoping to show you the man 

That I saw in you;

Hoping my love could ease the ache.

I didn’t want to fix you, no. 

I just wanted to help you believe 

That you never needed any fixing.

I saw you. 

And I wanted you to see me. 

And perhaps for a moment in time,

I believed you did.
I believed we had the world.

I believed we were each other’s future.

It was never my intention 

To overwhelm 

Or overcrowd

Or overthink

And when I stretched out 

My hand to you, 

You silently withdrew.

You crawled back into yourself
Back into your shadows 

The shadows so much 

Like my own.

I know those shadows so well
And darling,
I’m scared for you

I’m scared the shadows 

Will take you from me
I’m scared they already have.

So now my heart is breaking 

Painfully slow, 

But it’s all happening too fast.

You made me believe

In beauty 

In miracles 

In myself.

So maybe my love is selfish 

Maybe it was never meant to be 
Perhaps the hope was always folly 

And maybe you never needed me 

As much as I needed you.

I’m scared of the shadows. 

I’m scared of what they’ll do to you,

Scared of what they’ve already done.
Don’t let them extinguish your light, 

My love. 

Don’t let them take that.

My heart is breaking 

Because you can’t tell me 

That you still want me.


I won’t hold you captive
If you tell me you don't want this.

But promise me you’ll shine 

Shine so bright that you scare that

Which has caused so much fear 

In those like yourself and I.
Shine so bright the shadows run away 

Shine with your smile, 

And with your kind eyes. 

Shine with compliments 

And with an open mind.
Shine by letting them know

That you are not afraid anymore.

I’d like to hold your hand while you shine.

But if you’d rather say goodbye, 

Let us part friends. 

No tears and no lies. 

But with hopeful expressions, 

And happy memories.

We called it love, 

And I’d like to think

That’s what it’s been.
You bared to me your soul,

You showed me 

Your shadows.

And now my heart 

Is breaking once again, 

For the one who was my love,

The boy that was my best friend.
Olivia V Aug 2017
There are two sorts of shadows in this world.
The shadows at night that are the mere inky blackness of objects
and the spaces between them,
and these are not shadows to be feared.
These are the shadows you know and feel comfortable with
and which do not prickle your skin or hitch your breath.
The other shadows however, the ones which elicit such a reaction, these are the shadows you should fear.
They have a presence, an omniscience and a heartbeat.
If you walk into your room tonight and feel your stomach tighten,
or notice that the quiet of your house is not an empty one
but one which is waiting,
I suggest, dear reader, that you leave.
Do not peer into the corner.
Do not shake your head and convince yourself
that all is as it should be.
Run, and do not be brave.
Be a coward.
Be the child again, who cries for it’s mother’s touch
in the middle of the night.
For the shadows which breathe are the shadows which ****.
And tonight, you have every chance of finding one.
andy fardell Jun 2012
Black heart beats through the treacle of life
as the outside world hates another day
Solstice moment seals the new
and ends the end life without darkness
Shortest day in battle against the longest light

Chase those shadows away
Please
Chase those shadows away
Oh please oh please
Chase those shadows away  

My mood is fixed no change of heart
Still dark the treacle still pain inside
No change in me yet dusk approach
A shorter start a longer shadow
My heart in sorrow blackened sorrow

Chase those shadows away
Please
Chase those shadows away
Oh please oh please
Chase those shadows away

A shining sun yet cold inside
No worries here as time takes time
A fear not in as life goes by
My blackened heart in pain inside
Please save me from the dark as i reach into the sky

Chase those shadows away
Please
Chase those shadows away
Oh please oh please
Chase those shadows away
G Dawn Moreland Jun 2016
Out of the Shadows

Out of the shadows
Cast in the light
It seems to be
Only me

Out of the shadows
Cast in the light
For the world too see
I wonder why
You won't let me be me

I would rather be

In love with me
In secret
I never wanted to be

I'm not a poet you see
But in the shadows
I'm so alone

Why
For the world to see
Why
Humiliate me
A side glance there
In the shadows
It's just a fantasy

You only wrote
What the world wanted to see
Is it just fantasy
I'm not a poet you see
But in the shadows
I'm free to be me

Scared and shaking
It's so hard to write
It gives my pen such a fright

But out of the shadows
You said it's got to be
Because I'll show you
It's a fantasy
It's you, It's me
It'll never be we.
Stevie Ray Aug 2014
Shadows dancing on the walls
sitting in my new apartment
one candle lit
Perfect symphony
flame and wind
a show of passion and freedom
Gods of the two dimensional world

Shadows dancing on the walls
ballet of dread
shadows of bloodsplatters
ripped muscles, hair
limbs fly freely in the air
a witness to a ****** scene

Shadows dancing on the walls
distorted figures
a show of psychoses
Gods gather on the walls
they give me instructions
a witness of the divine

Shadows dancing on the walls
they suddenly stand up
a show of intervention
the shadows whisper:'we are you'
I respond:'true, I'm me'
the shadows vanish
a witness of self acceptance
andy fardell Jun 2012
Black heart beats through the treacle of life
as the outside world hates another day
Solstice moment seals the new
and ends the end life without darkness
Shortest day in battle against the longest light

Chase those shadows away
Please
Chase those shadows away
Oh please oh please
Chase those shadows away  

My mood is fixed no change of heart
Still dark the treacle still pain inside
No change in me yet dusk approach
A shorter start a longer shadow
My heart in sorrow blackened sorrow

Chase those shadows away
Please
Chase those shadows away
Oh please oh please
Chase those shadows away

A shining sun yet cold inside
No worries here as time takes time
A fear not in as life goes by
My blackened heart in pain inside
Please save me from the dark as i reach into the sky

Chase those shadows away
Please
Chase those shadows away
Oh please oh please
Chase those shadows away
TheSilentWarrior Jan 2015
In shadows, it roams in grace.
Its eyes scan as the mortals lived on,
at night time as you go to sleep.
In the shadows it lurks as you sleep,
watching you turn and breath.

It comes closer as it leans in,
not knowing from the shadows,
you sleep deeply and soundly.

In the shadows they watch you,
watch you as you move a slight inch.
Even during the day, they watch you.
The feeling of eyes, millions of eyes
on you.

They await in the shadows,
they wait to take you and
you'll be gone in a second.

In the Shadows they wait.
Nicole Whitticar Oct 2017
Something about a figure casted on the wall, an image painted black,
A poorly displayed animation of a concrete object.

I was 10 when cars passed by and projected shadows on my ceiling, the
Distorted images paired with a faded sound of night life filled my room and kept me from dreaming.
a sense of nostalgia enwrapped my body,
From that point on I realized my whole life would be dedicated to chasing
After things that have already let go of me.

Looking at year 14-
Shadows replaced parents,
Imagination turned them into
Something tangible, nothing but uncanny
Resemblances between the two.

I was 17 when I encountered love,
He was warm, gentle, and open-ended;
Letters could not form enough words to describe what he made me feel.
I saw shadows in his absence. I named them Guilt.

Present day: throughout this life I have come to find that our demons often
Take shape of shadows, unfortunately that is how they found me.
I have learned through built education that shadows often depict
What our subconscious is unwilling to tell us.
I have lived my whole life thinking these shadows
Were winning, when they were simply a figure of imagination.
A figure of temptation,
Your shadows are not who you are, they are what they want you to be.
the dead bird Apr 2016
the shadows of others
which maliciously
dance
upon the walls
point and laugh
at my human body
that sits in my room
watching

they use their
shadows
fragments of their
true self
to shame and degrade
this person
my self
because I do not hide
my flaws
in darkness

the teasing
shades of human
criticize and belittle
myself and
the other few
who openly exist
as exactly
who we are

these shadows
fueled by
fear
spite
negativity
make every observation
of exposed flaws
I can only imagine
that the humans
who are casting these
shadows of hate
to be
biting their nails
and looking away
as their
shadow
becomes them

while I was
openly
exposing my true form
I began to hate
that of who I am
taking the shadows critique
to heart
when they are too weak
to expose
who they truly are

their shadows
came for me-
as did
shadows
of my own

instead of
hiding myself
becoming
the same as them
using my
insecurities
as fuel for hatred
to burden
upon others
when
the darkness began
to encroach upon me
it fueled
to make me hate myself
instead of others

now,
I have begun
to understand

my own shadow
will no longer
swallow me in darkness
as it is just
my own
embodiment of hatred
a version of myself
that isn't real at all

and the
shadows
from others
who spit fire
to try and burn
my flesh
will fail
as I now know
that if they exposed
their true self
as I have done
everybody
would be able
to see
that the faults
they accuse of
only exist
within them

and I
am just simply
me
I'm so sorry I haven't written in awhile I know none of you care but I finally got a job again and have been so overwhelmed I simply forgot to write. this piece is about others who critique and shame people for traits that they openly accept about theirself.
Solaces Dec 2018
Four shadows, 10 minutes past midnight..
Bound to me..
Walk with me..
Under the wonder lust of the moon light..

Four shadows, 20 minutes past midnight..
Shape of me..
Changed with me..
Under the glowing warmless street lights..

Four shadows, 30 minutes past midnight..
Lost shade..
Gained life..
Under the dark blanket of dusk lights..

Four shadows, 40 minutes past midnight..
Ran with me..
Stayed with me..
Under the jealous stars outshined by moon light..

Four shadows, 50 minutes past midnight..
Head back home with me..
Tired and alive..
Breathing in the night as I breathed in the cool air..

Four shadows, after midnight..
Returned back home with me..
They wait for their time under all that is lit at night..
For me to walk and run with them and continue to live..
For about 9 weeks now I have been exercising and treating my body with better foods..  I have lost 20 lbs! The other night as I was running under the moon I took notice how much my body has changed. All of my shadows were thinner now! Lol it was pretty cool to see how much change they went through also. Under certain streetlight angles my body would cast 4 shadows.. The only time I have to work out is late at night..
Wolfatheart Jun 2019
Shadows lurk
Shadows hide
Not always being
On the outside

Shadows can steal
Your force to strive
Shadows can steal
Your wish to be alive

Shadows can lurk
Deep in your head
Or loom upon walls
Above your bed

Shadows can take over
The outside at night,
But can shadows take
Your inside sometimes
... sometimes
Mike Hauser Mar 2016
Standing in the shadows
Of the forgotten years
Between the wars amongst our fathers
In the shape of mothers tears
Shadows growing long and heavy
Though not enough to cover fears
Standing in the shadows
Of the forgotten years

Standing in the shadows
As we're killing time
Always hoping for the day
To be saved by the light
Blending in the best we can
Whether day or night
Standing in the shadows
As we're killing time

Standing in the shadows
Because the shadow knows
There is nowhere else
For a soul to go
That has gone through all of this
So many times before
Standing in the shadows
Because the shadow knows
Xan Abyss May 2015
Skilled in the art of bloodshed
A rogue of the ancient clan
a sinister viper striking silently with a deadly hand
The sound of his blade in the distance
Is your only chance of escape
Before the Ancient Assassin comes to sever your life away

Nothing to live for, nowhere is safe
Stick to the light if you wish to escape

Fear not the weapon but the hand that wields it
Beware the shadows if you value your life
Silent and deadly he strikes in the darkness
Beware the shadows and you may survive

Once the proudest warrior in the clan of the Black Sand
A master of the prehistoric art of hit man
Black he feels inside, no beauty left in life
Vengeance and destruction - his last will and command

Nothing to live for, nowhere is safe
Stick to the light if you wish to escape
Far from the shadows, stay in the light
For when darkness surrounds you, you will surely die.

Fear not the weapon but the hand that wields it
Beware the shadows if you value your life
Silent and deadly he strikes in the darkness
Beware the shadows and you may survive
NINJA ASSASSIN
Jenny Nov 2015
The candlelight flings funny shapeless shadows on the wall
And when I put the candle out the queer moon shadows fall
The sun casts shadows on the lawn when there are trees around
Like strips of blackness painted on the green and shiny ground...
And in the country when a cloud obscures the blazing sun-across the golden fields of corn the dancing shadows run
And so it seems in daily life the shadows come and go
We cannot have the light with out the shadow,this we know.
And so when cares depress you and you cannot see a gleam
Remember shadows are not quite as dark as they may seem.
Afrodita Nestor May 2014
Confusion all round, just screaming noises
While looking for peace we are forsaking the silence
Blurred thoughts,  the illusion feels real
The eyes could only see what the light allows
There was a time when we were in command
Now, the monotonous life kills even  the routine
There is no existence,  just survival
If we were human we would bleed
If we were human, but we are not
we are just shadows wondering around
and shadows…
Shadows cannot dream
Shadows cannot hope
Shadows cannot love
Shadows cannot live
Copyright Afrodita Nestor
Aaron Combs Jan 2019
The stars and all its powers,  are falling like the Himalayan roses,
For tonight the marble moon is on fire,
Just like the hazel flames in your eyes.

Soon, the Gemini shadows
     will soar over.

As the world falls apart
like a red dress,
tell me the time, the time you felt life,
that life was good.

For the dirt storms and shadows, spirits
will eventually bleed above the sunrise.
Inside this truck, let me hold your heart.
below the shadows, I'll be your armor.

Up and under the shirts, sleeves, of our feelings,
darkness doesn't feel so strange when I'm with you,
so hold and hang on the leg of my words,
as the streetlights spill into the skin and memories.

Oh, the shadows, the shadows, the shadows,
I can feel fear as much as I feel the fire
and the flames in your eyes,
and the red sky is falling like razor blades.

Now until we are clothed into one flame.
Tell me you belong to me,
There's just one more night,  
For the marble moon is on fire
and the stars are falling all around us.

Turn the radio on, the last song on high,
and let the flames of music blend
smoothly against the shadows light.
~Christi Michaels~

Dark Shadows of My Soul
Memories finally revealed,
Yet always known.

Arches set deep within stone
Labored creake of hinges
Massive wooden doors
My breath, heavy just moments before,
quiets upon the entering.
Dark Shadows of My Soul

Three steps down,
Entering the majestic room.
Domed ceilings. Stucco stained
with colors from long, long ago.
I walk towards windows.
Tall, deep n' narrow overlooking My Realm below.
A knowing. A deep seated
rememberance of a life once lived.
Dark Shadows of My Soul

Secrets, locked away in gilded boxes..
Vessels holding unspoken truths
Trap doors leading to dungeons
concealed beneath intricately woven rugs.
Taste of the air. ****** breads,
roasting meat.
Acrid smoke wafting from Soddy hearths
Dark Shadows of My Soul

Raven ringlets cascading.
A waterfall down my open back.
Pearl woven braids
adorn the crown of my head.
My ******* constrained.  
Rising...cresting  
With each breath.
Brocade and lace lay gently
across my hands, kissing my fingers
My neck long, regal. I hold posture of a Princess.  
My full skirts sweep and polish
these stone floors from time till eternity

Will begin the journey.
Delve into this sordid past.
Facing, long at last  
Deamons. Lies of Old
Embracing now
Dark Shadows of One's Soul



Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels. All Rights Reserved.
#ilovedoinglines
Quote from Barnabas Collins,
the Motion Picture: Dark Shadows.
Starring: Johnny Depp, 2012 originating from the
T.V. series Dark Shadows (1966-1971)
  Barnabas Collins, a 175-year-old vampire from Collinsport, Maine. Having bridged the centuries, he has been both an adversary and an ally to his extended family members over the course of several generations.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I loved Ireland. Felt one within the Castles. This peice, though originally a challenge, fulfilled the " Dark Shadows of My Soul"

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