The shadows of the past are no shadow theater
They know nothing of humor
Though dead, they walk
Instilling fear
A chill
Soulless faces
Mocking
They deride former lovers
Who no longer resemble themselves—
A stamp of selfishness upon their faces
The shadows transform all things precious
Into dust
Into dust and ashes
An archaeological site
Of a personal life
Into the ruins of Babylon and Pompeii
I slip away from the shadows of the past
I stand in the sun
Fixing my gaze upon the distance—
They can do nothing to me
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Author:
Lily of the valley (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 17th, 2026 03:33
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
- In collections: Chiaroscuro.
Offline)
Comments1
Shadows is a good term for them darkness obscuring and hiding but still allowing enough vision to be aware. Time has a way of hiding things in shadows diming the vision and distorting the view. Nicely crafted I like the introduction of the ruins and archeology into the poem as metaphor. Well done Durdica
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