Shadow Play

‘Twas the Night before the day of Halloween’s Eve The air was cold and the wind was mean And on it traveled the fairest soliloquy Betwixt Good and Evil as they strolled The breeze brought me the story they told Of sleep, dust, and shadows Of teary lakes and headless plateaus Of the blood brother of sleep More restless yet deep Around which broken dreams of split saplings rally Thus marking his easy to find but hard to leave valley Moreover mentioning the interloper Some fine fellows, others right scurvy An earthly animal, but Heaven worthy Who at best is Good’s noblest paradigm And at worst is Evil’s paragon in time The infinite being in a finite creature Dwelling in a bottomless cell without walls or ceiling A void of finality with infinity features Where the soul can gain or lose feeling. The interloper possesses a body, heart, and mind All can be broken, which you will find The heart can meet the end of love’s stake And bones of the body easily break The mind can be destroyed by its own thought. In the end we are but dust, shadows, and forgotten wrought. And only as they go Do I noticed Evil’s haunting ghost Who walked with Good as the unknown foe Who thrived in the dark of night But did so best with a glimmer of light He is boldest in the day But while I lay And as they stride He has no light in which to hide For a shadow only plays While there is light in the day And Evil is ever and again the master But solely in the seeming absence of its caster