The Shadow

Where her shadow lies is where she truly is alive
Always looking feet away in hopes at the shadow to survive

Her body frail  and of ashes to be blown away on a whim
Hope only showing in her shadow yet dark and dim

Feeling life may pass her by, not able to truly live where she stands
Second guessing her own soul, and leaving it hanging by the strands

The fires that have plagued her make it appear that “her shadow is burnt to the wall”
Yet she holds on to the tiny edge of light surrounding it, like an innocent little doll

Where is her cold air love that believes, “my world begins and ends with her”
Standing beside her shadow forever unable to touch, may be her curse

She longs for the day that she can walk into the light
And her shadow merges into the wall and out of sight

When hope abounds into her soul making her whole again
and she takes his hand and vows, never to make the shadow her end