Shadows

She lives in her shadows
But happy at her core.
Darkness in my world too,
But ice around my door.

A look is all I need
to start my winter thaw;
Set my spring in motion
And let my passion soar. 

But I won't have her...
She won't have me.

She sleeps so peacefully
Through the night, to the day.
And no one else’s smile
Can make my spirit fly.

She was busy feathering
Her house, her home; her nest
I offered her my warmth,
I offered her my best.
In her bright eyes I felt
The soul of her expressed,
But it was the shadows there
That made me clutch my chest.

But I won't have her...
She won't have me.

She sleeps so peacefully
Through the night, to the morn.
And no one else’s smile
Can make my spirit fly.

She showed me her darkness,
But I saw only light.
In her sad countenance, 
A shining star delight.
In her noble shoulders
I glimpsed a flash of fight,
Then I saw them turn and flee
For safe and lonely night.

No, I won't have her...
She won't have me.

She sleeps so peacefully
Through the night, to the dawn.
And no one else’s smile
Can make my spirit fly.

It's hard for me, but I'm trying
It's hard for me, but I'm trying

It's hard for me, but I'm trying
It's hard for me, but I'm trying... (repeat to fade)



It's more a song than a poem, hence the ending. The love the narrator feels is of course unrequited, but actually there's something more here. The shadows of the title refers to the ghosts of the past, the dark that counterbalances the light in all our lives.

For him, these shadows are something to run from. His world (his home and his heart) is a cold and lonely place, and he looks outwards to find warmth and solace. Away from himself, away from his home. In contrast, she doesn't run from her shadows, but rather lives with them; in them even. 

He denies they exist and pushes them from his life, she accepts them and lives with them. He hides his scars, she doesn't.

Anyway, that was my starting point. I'm not entirely happy with the form, and to be honest I found it incredibly restricting. However, the melody in my head when I read (sing) it more than makes up for that, and that's the way it is sometimes with songs. The words on the page lack something, but the song throbs with atmosphere. You must let me sing it to you some time.


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