I see it caress again and again
Crooning and swaying in the black
Could the hand be poison?
A touch to make souls brittle?
My elusive shadow drains it all
Until the husk stands anew to thrive
And the shadow returns, bent
But just as beautiful that first time.
I am the fool to my shadow
But all the baubles of day
Cannot compare to such a jewel of night
Giving hope and instilling fright.