Shadow

There was a man

playing a violin.

The tune was strong

and soothing.

He played for his lady

who stood in the wood

in front him.

The enchanted beauty

stood and listened,

complimenting and singing

to the tune.

The man loved her.

And she loved him.

As they made beautiful music,

the strings on

the man's violin broke.

"Do not cease, my lady!"

He called to the silent woods,

"We shall continue.

I shall play from my heart!"

and with his knife

he replaced the strings

with strings from his heart.

The music they made

Was even more glorious.

Angels wept.

But the man

Was bleeding terribly.

They played from

Sunset to

Moonrise.

But with each

second that waned on,

the man grew weaker

and soon fell

to his knees.

But he continued

to play

more strongly

than before.

His love continued

to sing.

He fell on

his back, playing

for his dearest,

his bow humming

in his blood.

He cried to the woods

that was now

softening from her singing

"I shall die for you!

Take my love!

Take my life!

It is for you, Forever!"

His love stopped singing.

He peered through

the trees, searching

for her.

At the sight

of her sweet

face, he felt strength again.

She smiled to the man

her love as pure

as the clear sky.

As the man

gazed at the lady,

he smiled.

A creature moved

from beside

the man's dearest.

The man cried

for his love to run

but not a budge

she made.

The wolf-like beast neared

the fair lady.

The man struggled

to regain his strength.

The sky darkened

and storm clouds arose.

Rain pelted

the man

and churned his lying blood.

The man screamed

to his love,

and she ran to him.

Nearing the edge

of the woods

the monster pounced

through his lady.

She fell

so softly

so gently

so gracefully

to the ground

where she lay

dead.

The man cried

for his beloved to get up,

but not a budge

she made.

He faced the beast

but it was merely a

SHADOW.

The man cared not

for dying anymore.

But he did not die.

He felt

the pain

the suffering

the emptiness

The man

played the violin

with the strings

from his heart.

But his heart died,

with her.

He felt nothing but

the pain

the suffering

the emptiness

"There is a man

Playing a violin

And the strings

Are the nerves in his own [heart"

J. O'Barr

The Crow