Bat wings, flitting around my soul,
The robe engulfs me, taking control.

Darkness is total, swirling around,
I'm lost to it, seemingly bound.

Most times a tickle, nay a touch to my heart,
Striking me now, making me start!

...to think again, lose myself,
into the blackness, again I must dwelve.

My hearts door is pegged open,
Some part of me, unabaded, keeps hoping.

Take off the mask; let me see the face,
Once again I could be free, not afire in haste.

Black cape,

Dark face,

Hidden smile,

Was it I that hid her face all this while?

(c)Alan Bailward, 1997