The Shadows of Light I awoke one night to a haunted vision Of many a glowing apparition. They shone like beacons of ghastly light, - Polka-dots against the canvas night, - In numbers I could never count, In hundreds I dared not surmount, And merely ambled; hovered, so, With dark expressions I dreamed not know. Above, beyond the shadow storms From whence the rain and thunder forms, These haunted visions poured as legion Down upon this wooded region And wailed their countless, sorry woes And flailed amidst their deathly throes, Until I stopped and watched no more The pangs of suffering they wore Within their cold and sad demise, - Within those glowing, brimstone eyes, - And wept with horror beneath their gaze, Knowing then what sorrow weighs. O’ angel, o’ grief-tormented soul, You who are lost where’re you stroll: This surf, this land to where you chase Is nothing more than a woeful place, And I, the dreamer unlucky to dream you, Who hath your countenance in view, Know little as to why you haunt this wood And cannot help, though wish I could.