Shadowland Poem by Irene C S ClarkHogg

The silent screaming of the dreaming
Awakens not the mind of man
But reaches out to he who travels
In the borders between the worlds.
The bond is forging, so the coming
Of the shadow, for now he can
Touch the thin veil which soon unravels,
Leaving egress for smoky whorls.


A candle splutters in the darkness
Engulfed by an expanding form
That knows hunger. The life force glows
In the man who innocently sleeps.
The man shudders with the great coldness
As his body heat is withdrawn
Then within his chest his heartbeat slows
And nearer still the shadow creeps.


The shadow longs to touch the man’s lips
Taste the sweetness of his last breath,
Banish man’s spirit into darkness
And take the life force as his own.
Black on black as reality rips
The man is now so close to death.
Shadow, near solid, grins his gladness
Never more will he walk alone.


A door opening, a woman screaming
Shadow fleeing, a man dreaming.