The Shadow Of My Death

I felt a presence, somewhere behind no sound was heard no breath was felt no ghost in sight. Yet something was so near me I could sense its purpose in this night. Perhaps the film with Charles from Poland, had stirred something inside my soul, I had accepted that he, Bronson, affected me in curious ways. 'And miles to go, before I sleep', it was the signal to a mind of innocence, now scripting him to maim and kill. So, in my quiet desperation I laughed out loud, then shrugged my shoulders, and whistled my most favourite, 'Allons enfants de la patrie', but it was not the breath of joy or carefree walking in the dark that stopped to say Hello. The window of the Bridal Shop, reflecting gaily and with glitter, the one who had accompanied this lonely wanderer, it was the one and only, the inevitable it was the Shadow of My Death.