Untitled

It comes like a shadow.
Whispering.
Tugging gently at you.
A part of you,
Yet different,
Separated by Light.
Without it,
There are no contours.
Only a flat rhythm
Without sound:
Harsh and shapeless;
A single blob of Light.
It pulls at you
Softly.
Running smooth dark fingers
Into your clothes.
Engulfing you...
It surrounds you.
It emulates you.
Until you become one
With the Dark.
You become the shadow
And
Light cannot touch you anymore.