Shadow Among Torch Lights

  Shadow Among Torch Lights

I would have once told you even shadows
warm when I walk long enough with them.
Now in some cosmic role reverse
I am the chilling shadow walking among torch lights.

Vibrant fire in my heart runs black and gray
Embers pass there glow extinguishing into ash.
Calculating clear clarity of my eyes dries into a maze of fog.
Like Achilles heel clipped,
I wander old streets, old spaces, eyes bowed low.
A once radiant figure ablaze with boon like inspiration,
and an unending sense of purpose bound to his bones,
stripped.

As if some spiritual covenant broached,
signed in blood, was breached.
For what transgressions done,
I wander in discordant form

My silhouette curled around sharp old sins,
stunted murmurs echo: where have I been.
Pavement marked by spirit seeping through
old steps, old paths, a world I am divorced from.

The air sings dirges in forgotten tongues.
Morning dew falls like memories forgotten—
Remnants remain, soon to evaporate away.
Silence holds the chasm of chaos, grace
left me in.

And yet—beneath this altered face and downcast eyes,
something faint glimmers and stirs.
Not god, not ghost,
not torch light, or shadow,
But feral and foreign,
Strained breath,
breath alone,
becoming again. 

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