Shadowed
The doorway breathed and bowed aside,
Its hinges hushed, its reach wide-eyed.
No light flared bright to mark the way—
Just shadows pulled in slow relay.
The floor was stone, worn smooth by time,
Each step a verse without its rhyme.
The archways stretched, the ceiling low,
As if the dark had learned to grow.
The silence moved, but did not press.
It wrapped your thoughts in carefulness.
Not warning—more a whispered guide,
A path that welcomes, not decides.
No flame was lit. No lamps were hung.
Just shadowed steps where echoes clung.
And though the hush was wide and deep,
She stirred beneath her vaulted sleep.
No doors were locked. No path was barred.
But shadow lingered as your guard.
She did not speak. She did not steer.
Just stayed beside—intent, sincere.
A quiet guide in shade and dust,
With guiding hands you'll come to trust.
