Shadow Gate
by
Tony Lane

Hunted. Hated. Haunted.

Keep moving. Sharks never rest. To stop is to die. Sharks are predators, I am prey.

Look for the shadow. The paler shade of dark. Safety. Refuge.

The roar of subway trains. Faces reflecting pale light. Faceless faces, masked faces. Some faces covered in bright plastic, some covered in dull flesh.

Keep moving. Stillness is death, non-being. Surrender.

Needle gun in my pocket, snuggling into my hand. Smooth shiny, humming. A comfort? A curse?

Flicker light. Light dance. Moving subway windows. Frames of personal stories. Stories unknown or untold. Stories ended before being resolved. Tales never begun, waiting to become.

A world of great promise throbbing around me. A world of lies. Unresolved potential. Death answer, life question.

Keep moving. Pause not. Why not? Let it end. Let the living bury all their tomorrows with flame and hubris. Hunt me no more. Let actinic light be my shroud, dream forever of cool shadow, welcoming shadow. Shadow mother. Shadow home. Shadow lover.

Hunters close now. They hunt me for what I am. Not their life, not their breed. A shadowman, dark dweller. Not their enemy. Not their friend. Light banishes shadow. Shadow dwells behind light, waiting, patient, raging, watching.

Shadow beckons, close, enticing. Shadow lures, safety, home. Shadow far away as distant stars. Hunters wall me from it.

Keep moving. Change direction. I am seen, known, a prize. A victim.

Reflections on dark plastic. Small masks hiding eyes that speak volumes. Hide in safety from the day, from the sun. Their shadow. Their comfort.

Shadow close now. Shadow flickering against brightness. One last run. Shun the day, embrace the night.

Hunters vector, smelling prey, sensing victory. Elation. Blood throbbing. Teeth glint. Smiles of satisfaction. Wet reflections on sharp white enamel.

Keep moving. Shadow reaching, promising. Song of safety.
Song of shadow, promise, release.

Running. Slap of feet. Whine of power building. Silent howls of victory so close.

Diving. Me. Sense of self unhooked from Earth. Gravity a memory. Momentum the only rule.

Snap of guns. Crack of energy. Falling. Falling toward shadow.
Safety. Oblivion. Non-thought.
Embrace of the dark.

END

Nice stuff. I like the abrupt nature of each phrase - you've done it really well. Am I stepping on toes by giving some constructive criticism? I hope not...sorry if I am. You might want to run through it to smooth a few things which just sound a bit out of place. You capture the darkness, and urgency with skill, but in a few spots (like the introduction of a needle-gun - maybe a more ambiguous reference to it might fit in better; and perhaps 'nestled' rather than snuggling?). The questions in there work DAMN well - especially that comfort or curse thing. Finally, you might even want to add the cliche 'no rest for the wicked' after 'keep moving' at the start?!?!?!?! - or would that detract from it? All just my opinions though. :) Great work!

I try to avoid cliches.

Boy, now if that isn't a cliche.

I avoid them like the plague....

That too! Put your last two together and you have the beginning of a killer rhyme.

"I'd rather be original, " you can fill in the last line. It should rhyme with "sliver".

I try to avoid cliches I avoid them like the plague I'd rather be original if the words'd only let me...liver. I wanted to put in 'play', but I'm staying with the program. (Thank goodness you don't know me.)