Shadow of Reality - Poem
Under the brightness of truth,
Darkened were the dreams of the poor.
Leaving a trail of blazing souls behind,
The Reaper set forth on a path.
It was a glass house,
Filled with dreaded reminders of the past.
A mirage of dreams,
Brimmed to the surface carrying the dead.
A gatherer of the spirirt,
None for sale.
It was an act,
It was a show,
It was all,
But just behind a curtain.
Attacking with vicious intent,
It was difficult to balance the power.
Mere thoughts of these,
Brought the Reaper back into the streets.