The Shadow

The shadow. . .
It has avoided the sun all day

The sun that stains my fingers
as it slips through the crack in the World

I feel the way the shadow wells up
to take my hands
I hear the way it swells
to consume the sounds of the day

The darkness between the stars
is silent and colder than seven kinds of Hell
The darkness of the ocean depths where leviathans swim
The darkness of the world spinning within this one

The darkness in the chambers of a false lover’s heart. . .

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

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