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The Heaviest Shadow
On a Monday night in late June,
A candle is lit in a dark room,
She lies on the floor with her hand raised high,
Searching for truth in a life that's a lie,
Two shadows dance across the wall,
One is weak the other tall,
The darkness seems stronger after light has been shown,
Deep inside her heart she knows,
The heaviest shadow is not her own,
Vision and warning,
Dark skies and mourning,
Memory is sitting proud on it's throne,
Kneeling she grants it the power that had once been her own,
Though she's faithful in her doubt,
She has lost all will to shout,
Her beauty was lost in the eye of a beholder,
A hand was removed from her weakest shoulder,
When your life is the past,
What life is left to live out?
When water is gone,
What is the cure for a drout?
One shadow is suffocated by another,
For the first time in years she cries out for her mother,
The darkness seems stronger after light has been shown,
Deep inside her heart she knows,
The heaviest shadow is not her own
