You leap at shadows, wild and fraught,
As if they hold a fractured key,
A truth untangled, lost in thought,
In corners where your mind cana see.

You bark at phantoms, fierce and loud,
Their whispers curl in empty air,
And though no substance forms the shroud,
You fight the ghosts that arena there.

What drives this chase, this fevered game,
A hunt for fears that never grow?
Is it the madness, or the shame,
That keeps you chasing what you know?

The shadows twist, the phantoms near,
And as you war with endless night,
You find, at last, your darkest feara"Staring back from mirrored light.

Penned by my hand on the 14th of Lupar, in the year 953 AF.