What possesses us to stand in the shadows,
   nearing the darkness
where those things we fear lie in guarded wait
   for us
to stray just that little too close. What possesses us to play
   where we cannot be seen
   by others
who might save us
   with their foolish bravery.
Are those in the light just mere cowards? Do they fear
   the dark
   when the demons come?
   Do those in the shadows live differently?
The shadows hide us,
   our fears
   and imperfections,
   yet bring us closer
   to our doom.
Do we see the
   little death
   that is
   eternal in the darkness?
   Do we fear
   it or are we attracted to it
   as the moth to the flame?
Do we fear the
   or are we comfortable with the dimmness
   that surrounds us?
   Or are we merely unsure of ourselves in either place?

I ask,
   you see,
as one who exists
   not in the darkness
   nor the light
   nor now the shadows
yet in a place of mine own
   making where
   I exist,
   the sole existor,
   as the most important part.
It is a place of fearlessness
   as I am
   the preditor
   and the prey
   as I wish.
It is a place
   not of sanctuary.
   It merely is.
In that place,
   and nowhere else,
   forever shall I be.

Seek not the shadows.
Seek what you are.