Shadow Man

Shadow Man, with long dark arms, and long dark legs,

tall as any given fear;

why have you come to me, however far

however near?

Is your joy in frightening me, in any way,

in any shape or form?

Is your hiding place inside my thoughts,

in my catastrophic storm?

Shadow Man, you know very much,

all of me there is to know;

of every trickling tear when hands

refuse to let me go.

Pinning me down, stripping me

right on solid ground,

your forceful possession of my detection

steals my sight and sound.

Shadow Man, I must say

your anonymous face, so dead

has taken form, intimidating me as you place

the gun against my head.

Your knack to twist the scene and take

each book off the shelf,

as it is replaced with the sight of mirrors

and frames of me killing myself.

But, Shadow Man, you've not come back

in quite the longest time.

Why not, my precious nightmare, creator

of only what is mine?

Perhaps you're still a Shadow Man, waiting,

for the time so right

that you could creep inside my thoughts, inside my dreams,

and give me Hell another night.

-LJ

6 & 7 October 2016