And in the shadows the wind stirs up,
fresh and new and green,
with life around its as merry,
as it can be,
but when the shadows turn on you,
you feel no life alive,
for shadows are depressing,
as long as you are alive.

Unless you belong to the shadows,
or make a pact, as some do,
the shadows are unfriendly,
as only the dark can be.

The pacts those men make,
to be friends with the dark,
give up their soul,
and will never board the ark.

The ark that is salvation,
at the very end of the line,
for life in the shadows may live without fear,
life becomes your fear instead.

And those that try to end their life,
most in the end succeed,
but the ark has moved on,
for life is like that,
forever more. 

The End

5 comments about this poem Feed