A Sunshine Glaze

'Drawn from our footsteps, hiding behind the figures of those who brave the lights.'


I wonder what a shadow feels like. 


Open-mouthed and empty worded, they speak on borrowed tongues, speaking through the sentences of others. They'll survive as a silent mimic, accepting credit but deserving none. And how they enjoy it. Their steps fall into footprints, while their actions become exaggerated as they desperately attempt to stay in sight, and not fall prey to the backdrop that begs for abandon. Shadows are mere mimes, dancing beyond the gaze of the sunlight. 


They fade, however. As the light weakens so does their outline, paling away into the background and leaving nothing to show for their colourless existence. Not least until the next sunrise, the next flare, or the next flash of a lightbulb that reminds us that those same shadows are still there, ready to once again imitate the best of us. They never really left. They never will.


No-one remembers the ones who mingle with the dusk. It's hard to find an outline when the bright lights desert us. That, probably, is my biggest fear. I can't imagine myself living as a shadow, so content to match the footsteps of others, never straying from their own sheltered lives. I don't want to fade.


The funny thing is, most people do.

1 comments:

Mrs. Wall | 28 November 2011 at 19:54

Blogwalking on your BLOG^^!

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