The Canyon

A telling of the fall of shadow across the landscape.

The canyon rises dark above my eyes
The air, so still, sits soft beneath the walls
Echoing through the stills an eagle cries
Then fast, the noontime shadows start their fall
And I, a boy, am swiftly cast aside
A darkness faint yet pure comes to my sight
My fears, in flurries, come to conscious stride
And all at once there's no one at my right
And so i sit and watch the shadows grow
So large, until the canyon knows no day
And all the words that i can say or throw
Are stubborn lies, the shadows know the way
For one can't stop the turning of the tide
When fears, once flurries, come to conscious stride