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Sunday, August 19, 2012

Umbra

ears drown to feedback fading with
the sinking sun;
dusk shouts the final stage of
shadow

dark filled grass helps
guide this second spirit as
cheeks fill with whispering dew
drops

strange kingdoms reveal relative
faces turning fear thinking to a
monotonous release of the same
question

if reality has nowhere to begin the
fantasy of death, then
how do we begin to
die?

***

contempt of fate;
trapped between judged veins
our shadows lie beneath with no light to
tell us our life

like dirty secrets
consummated by shameful blood
freedom is at an expense
bringing one day filled with

no cause for alarm
nor excessive worry, and
our shadows hang above us
creating our own angels


©Andrea Laws (Author) December 6th, 2013