Analysis of In Silent Shadows

The breeze rustles her hair
in the heavy air of dim light,
and when all of her shadows
should have passed away
they grew closer.
She knows they come
she knows they lie behind her,
but refuses to look past her shoulder
because her back is bare:
a vulnerable offering.
Though her eyes beg to close in fear
the will keeps them open,
hoping to see what was created,
and to watch the self-devastation
at its final height.
Her snow-white fingers,
careless against the black,
bend down as if to caress the malignance
at her feet,
and fall into the darkness from above.