Does my soul have a shadow
or is it a projection of my lifeless form?
Does my shadow have a soul
with a pulse wicked and warm?
Sometimes I get the sense
that my shadow is not me.
Plots dance in the dark deceiving ripples
of his moonlit lunacy.
I cannot shake this paranoid feeling
that I cannot shake his constant glare.
My shadow is the manifestation of all my doubt
and I have no doubt that he'll always be there.
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