Silence Calls

The world is dark and dim and shifting,
Beneath a quiet shell uplifting.
In the silence one was calling
She stopped to listen…
Heard leaves falling.
Almost footsteps, ones behind her.
Turned to look and heard survivors,
Still living echos of her own,
So cold and far away from home.
On her way, walking faster now.
Down a path to the edge of town,
Where the world, dark and dimming,
In its shadows with mysteries brimming.
None may see her final flight,
If safely home, or had to fight.
Those footsteps she once heard before,
Were her own, but something more.
For reaching from her twilight shadow,
Her reflection from graves shallow.
Grasping at her ankles so,
It may not have to let her go.
Then turning slowly back to see
What has gripped so desperately,
Then looking into that shadows face,
None but her own would take its place.
She is it, and it the shadow.
The day is done and she’s left hollow.
The world is dark and dim and shifting.
Beneath this shell that is uplifting,
There is one, who in silence calls,
Waiting for another, who, listening, falls.

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