It’s not magic 
It’s not necromancy 
It is, depending on your perspective 
Insidious or protective technology 

I’ve seen it 
Fallen into its world 
More than a time or two 
Indeed at will 
Heard about what it does 
But still… 
That’s a second hand story 
Cause the “shadow” 
It never, never ever touches me 

It’s never held me 
In it’s benighted charm 
Motionless 
Speechless 
Helpless 
The proverbial deer 
Locked inside pitch black headlights 
Inundated with fear 

I’ve heard 
All the talk 
People around me 
Montserratian 
Friend and foe 
Querying the shadow 
Awed by the touch 
The press 
The paralysis 
Listened as the bewildered 
Whisper in the light 
And pray 
For it to go away 
And never come back at night 

It was here this week 
Yesterday 
Dashing into my bedroom 
From the corner of my eye 
Swift and smooth 
The barely visible spy 
I would love to tell you 
Know how it works 
Know all of its quirks 
I have no damn clue 
Didn’t intentionally sic it on 
You or you 
You’re not that “old” 

It’s not a thing 
It’s alive 
She’s still the boss 
Still the one nobody wants to cross 
She wouldn’t try to prevent the bucket from 
Going to the well 
She would however put [it] and 
Anyone associated 
Through their version of hell 
It might not make sense to you 
But you don’t have the view 
To rationalize what they do 

It thrives in a world 
Where the darkness swirls 
With varying shades of ebony 
The place visible from the 
Eye of Severney 
It gets around 
The supreme bloodhound 
In and out of time 
It will find 
It’s target 
Almost every time 

The fear factor is calculated 
Fear 
Ratchets up your adrenaline 
Releases endorphins 
Enhances the pleasure 
For the reptilian vampire 
The edacious "power" reaper
Whenever it feeds 


Sometimes it’s simple curiosity 
Sometimes, because it’s designed 
To raise your dread 
Sometimes it’s not as bad as the 
impression you retain in your head 
Sometimes it’s just fascinated by 
The people her son gets close too 
Sometimes your intent attracts it to you 
Sometimes it depends on what 
The heir intends to do 

It’s not magic 
It’s not necromancy 
It is, depending on your perspective 
Insidious or protective technology 
It not just a simple ghosting 
It's a deliberate "marking "
A cogent reminder 
Once you've been tincted tar
The elemental return visit 
Is possible
Anytime, anyplace, near or far


It’s that unseen ever-present bodyguard 
Something I don’t really control 
And will never outgrow 

My mother’s affrighting shadow 
The Nightmare
You don't want to know...