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Shadows of the night
Running With the Shadows
Running with the shadows of the night,
Where even demons fear the light,
The air is thick with dying prayers,
And something wicked breathes down there.
The moon hangs low a hollow eye,
Watching souls decay and die,
Each step I take, the ground gives way,
To bones that never found their grave.
The wind it whispers, calls my name,
In voices soaked with ash and pain,
They claw at me from worlds unseen,
Dragging me where I've already been.
My heartbeat stutters, sharp and slow,
A dying echo far below,
Like something buried deep inside
Has finally clawed its way to life.
The dark it wraps around my skin,
Not cold… but crawling from within,
It seeps into my veins like sin,
And teaches me to let it in.
I tried to run. I tried to fight.
But I was born of this black night.
No savior comes. No heaven calls.
Just endless echoes through these halls.
So now I walk where nightmares bloom,
A living pulse inside the gloom,
No longer lost. No longer torn—
This is the place where I was born.
And in the dark, I finally see…
The shadows were never chasing me.
They were me.
