The Boy and The Shadow

The faint fluorescent lights on a Friday night,
In between the alleys of chattered whispers
The night gave its dress to a little boy,
So he skipped his way home
And gave a smile that eased his fear of twilight

As the time struck its song of slumber
And after the sun bled its light to death
On the Dom of the hill
A concrete shadow slithered amongst the rusty poles
And the wind blew away his presence to rustling leaves

Like a fag, the boy's smile was fettered into flicker
His novice eyes spoke of his silenced mouth
And on the gates of the cemetery
The shadow stabbed the boy's innocence
While God's might chose to hide within a praying cloud

The boy did not comprehend, condemn or complain
For his thirst was drenched with the shadow's climaxed dirt
And as the shadow withered with the night
And the cloud called the slaves to pray
The boy cried not his pain, but his shadowless fear of a Godless twilight

And as the boy's sorrow set sail with the years, he sighed:
"It is indeed our blood that ties me to your fate
But I turned that blood into water
And as for my innocence
I skipped my way home until I found it and I smiled
And I still smile"