27 April 2012

A shadow of doubt, In the crook of my mind, It lurks without repent. It favours my head, It trawls through my thoughts, From whence or whom was it sent?

The shadow it grows, With every breath, A mem'ry I cannot lose. It teases me- Taunts me- Fills me with dread- Through darkness it does peruse.

It wasn't there, This morn I awoke, I'd swear it on the grave. So, something has happened, Since then and yest', Something I couldn't save.

A myst'ry, Unsolvable, Killing my thoughts, The shadow it watches my mind. As though it has taken the nib of a pen, And in death and blood has signed:

'This head is mine now, Mine to haunt, And mine to keep for me. I shall distort every thought, To what it's meant to be.'

Tis a funny thing, Is fear and mind, For now the shadow is gone. Back to icy depths of black.

HeatherAnneFear Is A Funny Thing. • Opuss № I