He stands in a nice grassy clearing,
those large wings unfolded,
his black hair down as it twirls in the wind.
He looks down at his shadow,
the shadow of The Shadow.
The shadow of a hero.
A hero never ment to be.
With sorrows and memories.
Raw lust and power,
the scars upon his body never to leave.
His immortal life he must lead everyday.
The never ending nightmares that crash in his head at night.
A wife to love.
A child as well.
A dead child also.
An older brother to care for him.
An old love to support him.
A dead friend to haunt him.
He sighs patiently,
his wings twitching,
his breath hardening,
his eyes widening.
His wings pumping,
his mind racing,
the sound of lifting.
And upon the ground, you race against his shadow.
Upon a black horse you race him.
He smiles down at you, swooping close,
your horse scares, and runs faster challenging The Shadow.
He laughs at you, speeding ahead.
Later you and the Shadow relax.
Eating grass in a meadow,
the sweet grass of Rubi.
The edible grass.
That everyone and thing can eat.
The Shadow talks to you.
Shares his sorrows to you.
You then understand Shadow.
And his name is nothing but a game.
You look at his shadow, the shadow of Shadow, The Shadow.
You sing him to sleep.
You rest your head upon his chest.