A quick poem that poured out while I was typing a web log entry. R&R!

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Servant to the Shadows

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I am a servant to the shadows, a prisoner of the past.

Here, I remain with my eyes shut to the light,

forcing it to move on past my body, pass up my soul that it so longs to own.

And while it passes upon me, it is only fair that the darkness follow in its place.

The darkness that wraps its silken wings around my body,

shielding my soul from the piercing light.

The darkness that chills my breath as frosted night settles itself into my bones.

So cold and stiff, yet delicate as hand-spun glass.

It has become my existence, the one thing that I live from.

The darkness that makes me move, that makes me breathe, that makes me live.

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Well, how was it? Let me know, but please, constructive criticism only!!