The Shadow

I am not pleased with this way of life.

Stretching and squirming to reach the knife,

To inevitably cut my ties to light,

And bury myself within the night.

In this darkening opposition,

I stumbled upon an inquisition,

That although the ground in which we lay,

May be muddled and blurred with hues of gray,

That I am simply a shadow among the shade

Cast by the tree where my body sways.