The Spectre

He has shown his face,

Between fleeting moments

That flash of a smirk,

That glint in the eye

From the abyss he has emerged

Long thought forgotten

Rather hoped to be lost

Biding his time,

Creeping his way back up

Into being

Formless, Shapeless, like ether

Known only when manifest,

Returns back to his shadows

Once his part is played

Leaves despair in his wake,

The soul stricken

Awakens the primal urge,

To fight with shining light

I may be weak,

But I know who you are

I know I am you

Go back to your blackness,

Dark reflection of mine

You are not Welcome,

You are not welcome.