Golden Shadows by Tortall_Lioness
A golden mist, so ominous,
Drifts from the vast sky of fading blue.
The soft mist glitters as it blends with an ever-changing hue.
Golden shadows, as we call them,
Dust and conscious matter,
Surrounds the form of a sleeping girl,
Her clothing worn, torn tatters.
A boy with hair of midnight black rests beside our Mother Eve.
Pleasant dreams and mysteries, do these Shadows weave?
An outline of a sad boy-child stands looking at our Eve.
Memories of a childhood lost make him tug her sleeve---
But alas, his hand (so smooth and small) passes through her,
And sweet Eve, still unsuspecting, whispers in her slumber,
"Roger."
Golden Shadows, as we call them, conscious matter, Dust.
These particles of love and life somehow make us mistrust.
What are these beings? Watchers, angels?
Who make our hearts and minds feel strangled?
A golden mist, still ominous,
Drifts from the vast sky of morning red.
It rests upon a moonlit form, whose heart is filled, with lead.
His pride is not strong enough to extinguish his grieved cry.
He stares at the broken knife in his hand and whispers one word: "Why?"