Fallen Shadows
To drown in the shallow pool
created by a full moon.
To wade in the misery
of the drowning fool.
Crucified on a lunar cross
at high noon.
A proud parade of waxing soldiers,
marching proudly inline.
Shot down one by one,
in the still of the night.
All the fallen brothers wrapped
in a celestial robe of secrecy.
The shadows will one rise again
to stave o the sun and cradle our dreams.
Copyright © Malcolm Dyer | Year Posted 2007
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