The silhouettes are more than shadows

On the walls of my bedroom.  

They stand there or they move about

And just like that I’m not alone.

Before I liked them being here.

They were of interest, even comforting.  

And in my mental clarity

I knew they could not touch me.  

Back then I liked the darkness.

It gave me time to think.

I liked not seeing anything

In the night as black as ink.

The void was oddly calming.

The lack of light made me feel strong.  

I loved everything about the night,

Until that day came along.

Now I fear nightmares while I’m waking,

And shadows on the walls.

I once thought the silhouettes would stay at bay,

But now I am not sure at all.  

They lunge out at me and I tremble,

Before what may be in my mind.

In the darkness, in the great unknown,

No more comfort do I find.  

That peace has been taken from me.

It’s harder now to think.

I can no longer feel at home

In the night as black as ink.