The comical outlines of it's shadows,
Tripping & slipping into street-fights
Street-Nights are profound..
stories told, age old tales spoken in the peak of winter's cold
walls embrace the moving animations of the past
Forever Lost in ignorance, lost in a definition of bliss
As Rat races commence in the gutter of life.
When the sun rises, death capsized the soul of the shadow until another night
Orange lights give off the sense of fore-shadowing.
Tragic shadows paint the picture of pain,
flashing turquoise off the wall, blinding sight & the ability to hear,
We'd be lying to ourselves if we said, we had no fear.
Some will say they're Simply shaky imitations, but then what are we?
filling the spiritual voids in our soul
With dark, black holes,
Wandering aimlessly with us..
Obstructing the light from entering our hearts
and we're left with dark silhouettes who follow are every move...simply opaque objects orienteering ourselves into an obsolete existence..
There is a luminous hope peering through the crevices
of our souls,
careful reflection cultivates it into a glowing transparency,
The shadows nemesis.
and in to beautiful struggle or a resolute resistance.
Ever pondered the Life-Span of a Shadow?
Simplistic minds attribute it to light reflecting off an object
inquisitive minds however, abject..
Perhaps they've seen, the consequences..
When man chooses not to reflect..
by Mohamed-Zain Dada