The Shadow Self
(A lone voice whispers)
It came for me late last night.
Sliding and creeping whilst I was sleeping.
Slowly closing in, stinking of deep corruption, cold, smoky whiskey, and sin.
And as I looked in, from just beyond my astral windows as I dreamed and checked in, on my physical kingdom.
It saw me and smiled, crocodile wide and mouthed.
“Be seeing you soon, manchild. In those dark lands of sweet dreams of The Great In-Between.”
Then it slithered away after being pulled back by grey decomposed, arms and elbows.
To the wild, smoke-filled meadows and midnight sideshows—where nothing living goes.
Like a freezing winter's night, which forecloses on red roses.
With a wry devil's smile, as it suddenly appears from the shadows.
To all things warm, envelope and enclose.
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
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