My Shadow
On the empty lane in this evening – dim.
A shadow – plain, hazy, and grim
trails ahead, encompassing all.
Born out of the weary,
rustic lamp beside the wall.
It might be a complex lumen theory
but it has washed down
all my intentions – sinful,
into this hue – dark and brown.
My face is a mirror, full
of cracks from broken dreams,
and desires unfulfilled.
But as I look at the shadow, it seems,
that it is devoid of the stains,
the darkness, and the fragility
of my soul; and the strains
of my attempts, and their futility.
My heart and mind still don’t agree
if this shadow represents a better ‘me’.
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