The Solitary Solution

(Photo Credit: CC, http://www.wallpaperup.com/30507/candles_fire_flame_reflection_bokeh_zen.html)

The shadow crept along the floor,
Ears pricked up as I heard that noise,
And louder, and louder in the darkening hour,
With intensity unknown by some phantasms power.
Such a shock to the senses with noises and glimpses
Of a ghost each time the candle light flickers.
Nearly missed me, with the grimmest of sickness.
Lifts up my fears, with the meekest restrictions.
Condemn the madness, with which it is positioned.
Seethed in the moments, between each constriction,
And exhalation, as each breath leaves me.
The warmth of my body, not nearly concealing
The cold in the room, which I find in my being,
And bearing in mind that my thoughts are reeling,
Feeling the chill, in the air, that I'm breathing.
So nearly the real thing, that I scarcely believe in,
Creep in my skin, like some poison I'm drinking.
When touched to my lips, as if death that I'm fearing,
Reach inside me, as no living thing can be.
Such a horror, to feel that harrowing perspective,
As a crop in the harvest seasons introspection.
Not nearly so strong, as the mirrors reflection
But as mimicked as a mime, in the crowds I live in.
Reaching in to feel the fathoms fleeing,
And trusting that I am not just a ghost,
Host to some passenger, who seems such a stranger,
And languish in anger, while the feelings escaping.
Solitude is in no way the solution,
But rather the resolution of my exclusions.