The Hunt Beneath the Veil

I stepped beyond the hush of air,

where shadows bloom and lanterns fade.

The light was there, yet not quite there—

a shimmer born of what I made.

Each echo wore a borrowed face,

each mirror sang a stranger’s song.

The path bent back through its own space,

and time forgot which end was wrong.

I saw my shape in glass and dew,

but neither claimed to know my name.

The veil between the false and true

burned silver, soft, and half the same.

The moon became a broken thread,

the stars, reflections of the deep.

The hunter sought the hunted’s stead—

and found the dream refusing sleep.

I reached for light, but caught the gleam

of all the selves I’d left behind.

Each shimmer promised one more dream,

each promise turned to changing mind.

So I unbound the need to see,

and let the veiled horizon stay.

The truth revealed itself to me—

it waits when seeking walks away.