I should walk beside my shadow; it is mine

Not minding it should be the one walking beside me

Dark on the lane, it ought not to be seen

Entrails of the road finds a blend with it

To claim I do not know my shadow is to disrespect poetry

Engendering a war not worth fighting

 

Redolent of a time hanging in the balance

My senses comes to a consensus, seeking meaning in all fine influences

In search of what should be the definition of time

Not that I cannot recognize the shape of my shadow

Anguish must not wield a weapon against the life I know

Twilight cannot become the mother of the day

Ephemeral manifestations will not cut my shadow lose; it remains mine