I am a shadow of the night
a calm air upon your door
the haunting whistles rustling
the leaves outside your porch.
I am the moon's glow,
the howl from beyond the trees,
a shimmering eye from the forest
that chill your thighs.
I am the darkness lingering
under your chair, in the peaceful
space of your coach,
waiting for that perfect moment
to writhe out.
As you fall.
Fainting.
I am the second glance over your shoulder
when something feels uneasy and your
Spirit stirring self, silently,
successively spots Source's sight
and yet
only to be taken by goddess' dark flight.
I answer the moon, the stars, the void.
Between, you think, lies very little.
For in the Sun you cannot see how
I beam and shine, like Sirius diamonds.
You desire this side, when darkness calls.
Perhaps, I prefer the shadow of the night,
the silence of my halls
where creativeness falls and
Death is found whistling the
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