In the midst of the night shadows he lurks almost invisible as he blends in with the darkness that engulfs. Silent tears he cries his soul died long ago and the black bottomless pit is all he knows. His sadness cloaked in a mask shown only in the moonlight which allows only shadows to be seen for he no longer dreams and surrounds himself with familiar things afraid of the unknown as time passes nothing has grown and he cannot find clarity for he lives in a parity where he thinks he is living but there are no pivotal purposes and what he is giving is purely an overcast and he resides in the past pain and afflictions a self-sentence and conviction of a lonely heart torn apart by reality that love and war are equal equations that need little persuasion and they battle endlessly and will do so for eternity. He has not learned that each turn and tick of the clock takes away from the time he's got and he is loosing his fight. The more he hides in the shadows evading the light. It is so cold and lonely there, where fears are tangled with pride. Desperation, unable to confide or release the demons that are inside as he abides to walk aimlessly in controversy or give life or love a try because he was told and believed the lie that real men don’t cry. ~ Evangelist, Sharon Moore a.ka. Author, Poetic Evolution
