poetry

Lurking in the shadows you will find,
He who goes by no name,
His features, not so kind,
He waits for the one he lost,
Her face so soft and hair so fine,
"Where is my beloved?"
You will hear him cry.
The whispered answer of the wind
Is no more than a sigh,
"I am here my heart, my soul, my love,
I'll wait for you eternally,
You who are the dark and shadow,
Shall always be a part of me"