The Shadow
A shadow haunts me everywhere
of vacillating shape and size;
by day I drag about the form
that nightly, suffocating, lies
upon me in my bed.
A shadow haunts me everywhere;
my heart has never yet been free.
it breathes the very air I breathe
and from my hands steals savagely
what would be wine and bread.
A shadow haunts me everywhere
and loosed...Oh! How I long to be
a spirit child of lightning grace
forever set at liberty:
the selfish shadow dead.
© 1987, Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014
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