In Shadowtown, where the sun beats down,
and there’s not one leaf on the trees
there are things ‘neath the stones
that would chill you to your bones,
and make you shiver despite the heat.
A friend and I were passing by
when we came upon this land.
The heat made it shimmer, and I had just a glimmer
of what I would see firsthand.
The people didn’t speak, their faces were bleak,
but what made us stop and stare,
was their feet hit the ground, but made not a sound,
as if they weren’t really there.
Then we looked at the trees, and went weak at the knees,
as the branches seemed to grin,
for there, hanging loose, from every bough was a noose,
empty and blowing in the wind.
They creaked in the gusts, caked, covered in dust,
Mocking us with groaning bones.
For though empty as holes, the ropes they hung low,
with the weight of a ghostly death row.
The tumbleweeds clawed, the crows they all cawed,
as our skins began to crawl.
It looked as though this is where you go
if your evils are dreary and small.
We staggered around the silent crowds
until we reached town square,
where our eyes found another surprise,
in the dry and dusty air.
A statue black, to us his back
was turned, though we could see
it was of a man, his charcoal hands
were reaching to be free.
And then it turned, and my vision blurred
as this silhouette lurched near.
Its face was gone, its limbs too long,
a ghastly silken smear.
Its hands reached out, and it looked to shout,
though it had no voice it seemed.
We ducked around it, and we could feel the sound
it would have made if it could scream.
And out of the gloom more shadows loomed
like puppets without wires.
The people ignored them in silent boredom,
like trees ignoring fires.
We ran through the street, the sound of our feet
in the silence unnaturally loud,
until my friend said ‘We’re as good as dead’
and suddenly turned around.
He said ‘Why bother to run, when what we run from
could catch us before we could blink?’
I put a hand on his back, and his mood seemed so black
I felt my hope starting to sink.
And then he turned to face me, and I’ll never erase
the image burned onto my eyes.
My friend of ten years, his face disappeared,
a creature, blurring, and blind.
I let out a cry and ran until I
was weak, and my breath came in chokes.
To the ground I crashed, and I thought, at last
this was it, and then I awoke.
I was safe sound and home, in my bed all alone,
no silent people, no shadows, no ghostly trees.
I lay back and sighed, thanked God I’m alive,
and finally remembered to breathe.
Swung my feet out of bed, and then shook my head
to clear my ears as I rise.
For though my feet hit the floor, I could have swore
that they didn't make any noise.
In shadowtown, where the sun beats down,
and it never turns to night,
nothing ever grows, and though it always glows,
shadows are darkest in the light.
