A Shadows Lament Poem by Bill Cantrell

A wick has been drinking from most chosen oil,
Holy the path of its flickering light
From sanctified heavens they anxiously sing,
As shadows do dance on the edge of the night

My oh my, how the glowing warmth glistens
The cold hearted world has turned a deaf ear
From the heart that is penning, I carefully listen
And though I seem distant, I assure you I'm near

Such is the lot of the shadow that loves
His freedom arrives as the sun says goodnight
Ready for action yet looking above,
Sent back to the edge with the switch of a light