Souls In the Shadows
as the psychopomps cry
in the night, and we fly
towards a fate most divine,
looking, lost, and dying,
seeking fleeting blessings, crying
for the final slumbers sigh.
as we stir, our soul is sighing,
can't you tell the heart is dying?
mirrored shadows, matching eyes,
windows to the darkest lies.
watching ever in our longing,
mindless masses, always thronging
on the outskirts of our lives,
a twisted fate falsely contrives
and pushes ever on the road
to everlasting solitude.
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