Where Shadows Lurk
Where Shadows Lurk
In the depth of night I wander,
Through the corridors of fear,
Where shadows lurk and ponder,
On the mysteries of the yesteryear.
From the shattered, broken windows,
Gleams a beam of spectral light,
Like a blade, sharp and pointed,
Piercing the heart of the silent night.
On the walls, I see the remnants,
Of the art, ancient and rare,
Where the light reveals the countenance,
Of those who are no longer there.
They gaze, they grin,
With a look of disdain and sorrow,
They mock, they beguile,
With a voice from the hollow.
They speak of a grief,
That no mortal can bear,
They whisper of a future,
Devoid of any hope or care.
They narrate to me a tale,
Beyond all logic and verse,
They reveal to me a splendor,
That no eye can traverse in this universe.
They entice me with their falsehoods,
To the rooms where darkness resides,
Where the light is a fading spark,
And the shadows are my guides.
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