Shadows

I run after shadows, The darkness trapped between rays of light. Hideous they are, grow tall and short, Near but never enough to get hold of them. They twist and turn, a fleeting dance, They are ahead of me yet drag behind my back. The Sun is too harsh on her, burns her out of existence, Turning her endless void into an ephemeral grace. The night is her friend, and she is night's companion, With the alignment of the stars and dim beam of the moon, She makes the nights look pretty, hiding all the scars. Sisyphus climbs up and down the never-ending stairs, Tantalus thirsts for a water that will never wet his lips, In this endless chase of shadows and light, I am bound to this fight, for the shadow shared my mother’s womb. For black is what my skin seems, to the lighter shade, pompous as Sun, One day, I will catch up to my double, deep in my grave, and ask her "In the mirror’s reflection, I am but a mirror to them— My skin is not the shadow of fear, Why must I prove? Why must I fight? Why do they turn away from me, simply because I bear the hues of night? "