Sent up in a blaze

This is about overcoming your past.

Sent Up In A Blaze

By Shawn P Cassidy

Over my shoulder, just off to the right,

a man lay fading from an ancient fight.

To the left stood another, shaped out of night,

a shadow that knew me, a thief of my light.

His stare wasn’t anger; it was something worse,

the echo of memories, the weight of a curse.

I’d never seen darkness so close, so near,

that look in his eyes was the form of fear.

The air grew heavy as his gaze drew tight,

the world around collapsed into night.

I looked at the body collapsed on the floor,

not flesh, not blood,

but a wound at my core.

A lifetime of silence spilled on the rug,

the mark of a shadow, the ghost of a slug.

Then the truth rose up like a memory scream,

the man with the gun

was a boy in a dream.

A boy who carried

a night carved in flame,

a boy who survived

but was never the same.

A boy who learned

that shadows don’t fade,

they follow you quietly

through every decade.

The reaper watched still

through the smoke and the haze,

as I faced my past

and sent it up in a blaze.

© 2026 Shawn P. Cassidy. All rights reserved.