Shadowland

The sun casts my shadow
in front of me,
its heat rays unaffecting.

I want to bask in the shadow
of myself
with blind eyes;
eyes that don't exist.
The city of shadows
where form beats figure
where figure triumphs
face.

In a blind world
where the sun shines outside,
and a smile is never seen.
We see things in black and white;
the inside matters most
when it is reversed
in Shadowland.