27 November 2012
Movement that can't be seen, a glimpse of light, shadows flee from sight.
Black figures walk about, humans fast asleep, a quick look at the living, into rooms they creep.
From the corner of your eye, a shadow takes shape, a quick movement to look, a wind blown drape.
Evading detection, slipping between walls, whispers ring in your ears, the paranormal calls.
What do they want, why must they bother me, can't they see I'm alone, nowhere to flee.
Glimpse Of A Shadow • Opuss № I