I felt a presence, <br />somewhere behind <br />no sound was heard <br />no breath was felt <br />no ghost in sight. <br /> <br />Yet something was <br />so near me I could sense <br />its purpose in this night. <br /> <br />Perhaps the film <br />with Charles from Poland, <br />had stirred something <br />inside my soul, <br />I had accepted that he, <br />Bronson, affected me <br />in curious ways. <br />'And miles to go, <br />before I sleep', <br />it was the signal <br />to a mind of innocence, <br />now scripting him <br />to maim and kill. <br /> <br />So, in my quiet desperation <br />I laughed out loud, <br />then shrugged my shoulders, <br />and whistled my most favourite, <br />'Allons enfants de la patrie', <br />but it was not the breath of joy <br />or carefree walking in the dark <br />that stopped to say Hello. <br /> <br />The window of the Bridal Shop, <br />reflecting gaily and with glitter, <br />the one who had accompanied <br />this lonely wanderer, it was <br />the one and only, the inevitable <br />it was the Shadow of My Death.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-shadow-of-my-death/
