Moods are strange things,

Like objects barely seen on the horizon

of twilight, 

Shadows backlit by the setting sun,

letting me perceive only the absence of light.

Moods left unchallenged,

on the Horizon of consciousness, 

best viewed from afar

Once the Shadows assemble

in the Streams of present thought, 

the very Spirit, the very Soul

of oneself may become,

succumb to the bygone energy,

brought to Life again,

making the present become like the shadows,

and perhaps lost to sight, altogether.