Insidious, yet only in the tense past
as a shadow, only sighted whence we turn
Grew behind me like a veiled whisper
Brilliant in its disguise
Fatigue it fained, confusion fed me
Sight poisoned, passions drained
I would not turn, I refused it
Until the shade and the sun's light
Were no different, impossibly indistinguishable
And we are
Human
After all.
How are we to defend the slow worm's draw
When we are poisoned in crumbs and not in feasts?
Only seen when I mine eyes were no longer straight
Drowning for the fathom above me
Drowning until I saw, twice in error
And the body convulsed and my eyes opened
My head turned
And it can no longer hide
Reveling in the damage it has done.
Daemon.
The ancients would care for their names,
Divining them in parchment and smoke
But nothing matters so little in this.
Turn upon the shadow and see
Veiled whispers and shadow
Made true.
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