…hold a sacred flame

In shadowed alleys where the night is deep
where whispers drift like smoke on the wind hidden in tangled webs
the truth is hard to find and our souls seal a pact with the darkness
in hollow eyes the flicker of a flame
a distant cry that echoes through the years
evil wears a mask, a clever disguise
it weaves its lies and feeds upon our fear
we dance with it in the trembling dark
its grip is strong, yet its touch is light
it offers dreams and our souls are the cost
the dawn seems distant in the endless night
we must confront the unseen void deep in the depths of our souls
there in the dark, where evil casts its shade
a spark remains, that it cannot claim
for even when the light has strayed, our souls’ last embers
hold a sacred flame
© Ann Bagnall