In the shadow's looming dance, it nips my heels, Cold fingers reach, with icy, sharpened deals. "Where do you flee?" it whispers, voice so sly, Pulling me close, as stars fade from the sky. ...Darkness wanes, yet light persists, In the heart's eternal trysts. In the realm of gleaming light, I strive to stay, Yet shadow's game always pulls shades of gray. A known foe, its patterns clear and vile, Each confrontation feels like the selfsame trial. ...Darkness wanes, yet light persists, In the heart's eternal trysts. With every clash, my spirit starts to tire, A heart laden with weight, facing the darkened mire. But deep within, a beacon's steady glance, Pushing me forth, seeking one more chance. In the world's theater, tales of shadows are told, Of battles and heroes, of young and of old. Half-lit in twilight, where darkness and day entwine, I seek that beacon, that hopeful sign. ...Darkness wanes, yet light persists, In the heart's eternal trysts. Drawn to depths, acceptance starts to seep, In a heart where the longest shadows creep. But even wounded, when hope seems all but through, A flicker remains, glowing in its hue. Amidst the din and silent cries, I sit so still, A world in motion, against my quiet will. In, out they flow, like shadows across the land, Yet, among them all, alone I stand. ...Darkness wanes, yet light persists, In the heart's eternal trysts. Solitude amidst the ever-changing scene, A lone star, in a vast twilight, unseen. Though in company, isolation feels so real, Reach out, connect, let your heart truly heal. For fleeting moments, the shadows step away, Though they linger close, ready to lead astray. Their grip loosens, yet their murmurs are near, A chilling presence, always bringing fear. ...Darkness wanes, yet light persists, In the heart's eternal trysts. But with each sunrise, renewed strength I find, Battles faced, forging a resilient mind. Though shadows gather, awaiting their turn to win, The light from within ensures they're held thin.
© 2023 Jeffrey Weese
This marks my maiden venture into crafting a poem with a recurring refrain or chorus. Once more, I was inspired to write as I sensed the encroaching tendrils of depression. Poetry has always been my lifeline, a beacon that guides me back to light. I hope you find resonance in these lines, as I did in writing them. Please, indulge.
“At twilight, a lone figure stands resolute amidst encroaching shadows that reach like cold fingers. A faint beacon of light persists in the distance. The sky transitions from day to night, with most stars fading but one shining defiantly. The scene captures a tug-of-war between hope and despair.” Image Generation by DALL-E 3.