Figures I-III

I. 

Shadows on the wall... 

Some are six and ten feet tall. 

And in the night I draw,

The power to summon 

To walk once more. 

II. 

From Misery's open hands, 

Swept within her arms 

Dying or so I think, 

As shades stand looking on. 

Wrestling in slumber 

To obsequy serenades, 

Assuming a final form 

In a weary house taking shape. 

III. 

Nothing: I am 

In everything felt. 

Your silence and light subjects, 

Move in a whisper of distance. 

You only see me 

When I am worth something. 

A monster of walls.

A fortress of forming.