The Shadows

There is a shadow in the corner of my mind It haunts my restless nights and lethargic long days A silent whisper pries both my past and present The cold voice, infuriating and persistent Always it reminds of weakness and transgressions It urges my evil desires and obsessions Each sweat filled night, I toss and turn to disregard Constant preaching distracts my day’s agenda My very soul can feel it dragging me downward My mirror reflects a face of pain and anguish My heart has become still and cold, I have no tears I’m a nickname on a screen to the outer world With the keys I whisper to them, come and play My poetry recorded where nobody reads I’m a shadow haunted by another inside Two tortured brothers whispering in silence © Copyrights G. Jones 2008