The Lady of Shadows: Poetry

She walks the Dark Periphery
holding hands with those
who dot its landscape

They mourn,
walking over old wounds
that refuse to heal

She murmurs quiet notes
the lilting rhymes of empathy
woven into poetic song

She is the Lady of Shadows,
eyes misty with secrets,
the light admist the Dark

You can spy her there
by the candle gleam,
heart aglow with love

But the story she tells at
the midnight hour
is one known to Woe alone...

Blog Archive