So This is What Death Feels Like

Shadow trapped

I watch you from the shadows:
A mouth that never speaks,
Eyes that never move,
Because I feel I am bound to you,
To protect, to console.

So disillusioned am I
To feign that I’ve such an honor,
For despite prescience
And a damnable wisdom,
You are not mine to command.

Perform on the stage
Of your corporeal desires,
Stringed like a puppet,
Pulled by carnal instinct
And debased solitude.

I have become the shadow
That watches and waits,
That does nothing—
Cannot act—
Bound by abhorrent inhibition.

I watch, but never act,
And through ineptitude
I have become something less than human;
A specter, bound to a cursed fate,
And certainly not yours to protect.

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