Shadow

Deep in the night I sometimes find I am lost in a place unknown and though I walk the streets half-blind I know that I am not alone. The world is dark, the shadows black, the moonlight cold and silver-white; and in the darkness at my back I sense a walker of the night. Though I can never see him clear he knows me well as I know him. I try to run, for him I fear; I slip through shadows, slow and dim. The shadow-walker follows me, his footsteps slow as mine are fast. And though I ever dodge and flee I know he will catch me at last. My flight is futile, for at length I reach a trap, a closed-in space and there at last I find the strength to meet the hunter face to face. The other comes; I stand my ground and turn to face my fear alone. He lifts his head without a sound: the face I see there is my own.