Catching it from the corner of my perspective.
Turning around quickly to catch a glimpse.
The shadow man who waits for it.
Stop being a distortion of reality, causing a singularity.
Hairs spiking through my spine,
deafening the senses of this decaying mind.
He stands at the foot of my bed;
I arise for no reason from a deep sleep
pretending not to see his beckoning stench.
Into the darkness, it disappears,
reminding me of its presence again,
defending my racing heartbeat again.
Enlightened friend or foe?
A question that will follow me to the end.
I’ve seen him before, from before
when the thick red curtains hung at the door,
preventing the passing cold from entering within.
Maybe it’s just the wind?
Or a fragment of my inner temptation questioning all to win.
Let me tell you this: he, it, she, awaits for us all!
Ready to take us back to a distant call.
Only to some, it reveals itself for reasons –
I have none.
The shadow man exists.