By Shawn Marc B. Carreon
Shadows play their puppeteer display,
The wind as its strings as I see no day,
Behind the window as it continues
to play,
I sense sorrow within my eyes full
of gray.
As the music continues its melancholy,
I drown within such darkness so
happily.
Having only the shadows as my way,
They lead to a place where I’d just want to stay.
As the show comes near to its
hallow end,
Granting freedom from shackles with bitter ends,
Behind such darkness lays a
colorful patch,
The window displayed my own saddening past.
