Edger was dead.
His mind was the victim of self loathing.
His evil shadow was a walking curse
hiding in plane view of the day.
One day Edger's shadow had disappeared.
Though the sun cast long shadows of trees
when it rose
and when it set
there simply was no shadow of himself, in any length or any form.
The following day after that
a pond acted in place of a mirror.
Where rippled the same long shadowy trees
reflected on it's watery surface
was Edger's shadow.
A twitch of fear came
A realization of an absence of a face
A declaration of dark doom
Where once stood Edger's face,
Now only stood an un-empathetic shadow.
In that instant Edger had become his fear,
and within that fear he had lost.
Now stood the evil victor as he chanted his methodical words
Black is the color that represents the only future I will ever know.
It is the color of the silent shadows.
It is deep subtraction of light that once held my soul now devoid of life.
I am my own shadow,
and like my shadow
I am already dead lingering helplessly on the ground
obeying the whims of my deepest greed.
And then there was silence,
and then there was death.
Death of the worst kind.
The body lived on,
but Edger's soul did not.