In the shadows I weep
In the shadows I seek
The doorway, the world-renowned question, and the answer,
To the tiniest of details
And how to stay in between the lines
Inside these rotating shadows . . . . . .
The voices of mythical and divine legends can be heard
Screaming, and moaning, in their ancient tongues
Trying to possess me, trying to curse me, trying to entrap me so . . . . . .
That all will leave me
Thus, love is no longer an option,
But a thing of the past, that never was.
These shadows, they come and go
And life seems so full and cleansed when their gone
But at the present time I cannot say
That I truly feel that way
I feel their presence. Can you?
I sense their season has arrived
I also wait for the final charge
Because then the light will die,
With no chance of being rekindled
In the shadows, fear overtakes me
In the shadows, one drop of blood can be heard,
As if it were reincarnating itself
Again, and again, that one drop
Hope still exists, but it’s fading
Ever so slowly
For in the shadows, where is love?
As I R.est I.n P.ain
Robert Alexander Deason Peace
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