The World Can't Tell

In the quiet winter a looming shadow warms the room. Its presence is esoteric but serves as a figure of the hearth. The warmth's benefits cajoles the benefactor leaving them in danger's loom. Considering we see the mystique for its nature. We question the enigma that is the shadow. It places gentle steps that drop fatal blows in the future. Though the docile nature of the shadow is a mystique. It oozes vitriol, proving a shadow doesn't lose its umbra. Further proving the disdain of the sole critic. The shadow's eradicated, and the soot it leaves is gray. The world can interpolate the dots into an artistic masterpiece. Leaving an impression that the shadow should never see the light of day. As the benefactors of the warmth are left cold. They question the eradication of the shadow. Attesting to the evils nostalgic memories hold.