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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1439561-Shadow-Wars
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by Kristi Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Tribute · #1439561
A free-verse poem inspired by and dedicated to Kristi Love
                             There is movement in the corners,
                             I don’t see, but feel, eyes staring.
                             Who are they, and what do they want?
                             Are they real or just in my head?
                             They are true; I can see the shadows
                             looking past me at each other.
                             Menacing silhouettes behind
                             watched by shadows containing light.

                             Trapped in a great silhouette war,
                             of shadows dark, and some of light.
                             When I move the shadows follow,
                             as if, they were a part of me.
                             Both sides pulling holding me tight,
                             captured by shadows in the night.
                             Facing the dark, I feel alone,
                             turning to the light I feel hope.

                             I hear running feet in my ears
                             the sound echoing from the walls.
                             The sound is I, running to hide,
                             and shadows glide along the hall.
                             At the far end stands a dark door
                             it’s tall running ceiling to floor.
                             The door is a living shadow,
                             and behind, a shadow filled room.

                             Weak and tired, feeling so old,
                             forty-years, now fears and more tears.
                             The living door warps around me
                             taking me to the shadow room,
                             the dark shadows blocked, can’t get near.
                             Amongst shadows, a small table,
                             on it sits paper and my pen,
                             shadows hold my hand and I write.


                                                 James L Finley
                                                 June 2008
© Copyright 2008 Kristi (kristilove at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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