sometimes i feel i'm standing before a door
long since sealed with rusty lock and key
concealing not the sanctuary of a mother's womb
and only this shadow on my mortal soul
prevents me from being consumed entirely
by the unquestionably cold darkness
of that hidden, soulless room
and try as i might to evade that which lies within
i am dragged irresistably to atone for my unintended sin

sometimes i feel i'm walking along a deserted street
alone with my thoughts in the pouring rain
and the only shelter, the only thing,
that keeps me from the jaws of being insane
is this here shadow on my soul
for i know my shadow can never disappear
and along with my shadow i will always be here

sometimes i feel i'm dreaming as i lie in bed at night
staring not at the ceiling but my undiluted fright
and finding you among the void of my pain and doubt
i touched you again, hoping you'd tell me what it's all about
but being dragged mercillessly further out of sight
of all the things, those little things, that i held dearest
and you, and this shadow, the one upon my tainted soul
are enough to quench my anguish, giving me the strength to fight

© abracad 2003