Death Stalks A Shadow

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What stalks beyond your visage those watchful things that mimic you from another's gaze? Are shadows just a reflection of you, of your being? Or are you a reflection of shadow? Eyes that grip you unseen, they are cunning and analytical, and are by many a comparison most keen..... Death watches us all from that place that lies beyond our reach..... beyond death lies something worse, beings of shadow that chill the bone when they screech.....

Robert Alan Ryder
Age Rating:

Prologue: Darkness The Requiem of Light

Ravens squawking, requiems of mourning in the evening dusk.

The gathering..... their primordial caws..... cries instigating a darkness serenade.

Shadows stalk the unwary..... Their sightless gazes felt as an unnatural gripping of the spine; an anchoring of the being to attachment of something malign.....

Goosebumps, thousands..... many unseen, some not..... remind those that are shadowed that the unknown exists all around us, and that things are more ore less; much more than they appear to be.....

People, ideas, jobs, presidential elects, the news; fake or not.....

Reality is understanding of those few things, those facts that dwell in fear of those many uncertainties..... of that chaos that cannot be countered..... of that unpredictable circumstance that cannot be prepared for.....

Shadows, as we are taught are images cast in light by whatever source that is reflected by the body, causing a visage of matter materialized as silent darkness.....

What of this shadow cast? why at times does the presence of shadows fill some with so realistic the mortal fear? Is the unknown really as scary as that unrealized truth that we have yet to discern?

All things look different by our perspectives in the dying of the light. The temperatures lower raising that grip upon our being increasing the goosing of flesh upon our skin.

Hairs stand on edge of raised insecurities of panic as we tend to fear those things which we cannot see that wander within those patches of black that is by our sight darkness void.

Praise the light, for of god's blessing was the world formed and tendered by the day.....

Forlorn the darkness, fear the night.....

For those silent serenades call upon those unseen terrors that will continually fill us with fright.....

Ode to that which is to be the all extinction of the light..... not necessarily just dying, but waning in the fall of the night..... The darkness interlude drawing all things quickly from our sight.....

Wise man's opportunity.....

Scared man's plight.....

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