These crumbs belong to a lost shadow

Once upon a time
about twelve
or three hundred months ago or so
In an empty cottage next to the silent woods
there lived a shadow in a dark corner
In the attic
Waiting for a lost soul to find their childhood again
and some peace
from this world of conflicts and critique

A lonely winter passed
Hundreds of years of winters
if you recall and understand their story
Snow fell
Trees fell
Hearts ached with unknown pain
Invisible disease
Not the easy road
Not the simple way
like things are supposed to be solved
in this world of practical solutions and logic

These crumbs here belong to a lost shadow
These meals and the wine were meant for company
The walls
the floor
the roof
The doors are waiting
The words unread and unwritten
And the world just continues its reality like before