A collection of poems and late night musings

Formless

The formless silhouette lays still beneath the forest lights. It's always there. Sometimes it feels like if it stretches out its hands it can almost grab the lights. But the forest lights are ever illusive, always seeming just within reach but far away in reality. The formless silhouette lies like it always does. A black and white spiral arrives to swallow up the forest lights. The silhouette isn't shocked; it continues to observe like it always does. While the silhouette was laying there enraptured by the forest lights and the world above, the world beneath had already begun to slowly infest it's shadowy body but even as its body became one with the world beneath the silhouette was still entranced by the world above.