Just A Shadow

In their little houses, fire bleeds Through the staring windows, Eyeballs pressed from panes, endless Revelations, explanations of what is to be… Moments, Southern samplings Darkness feeds on their silence, As they yearn for the moment when life Will begin, Eyeballs pressed against dark pains, Where they still remember, The aching truth of their life before They were merely shadows, Erased by the sun who comes again, And again… Every morning, their breath is stilled, Ghostly fires hide them, As a surreal silence lingers on the windowsill, The only sign that they were once… A living thing, Instead of merely a shadow, a ghost, a phantom.