The Black Cat Who Walked Through Shadows

The Black Cat Who Walked Through Shadows

He came one night without a sound,

his eyes two golden lanterns,

burning against the hush of dark,

his paws soft whispers on the ground.

The moon was high but pale with fear,

as if it knew his quiet spell,

a shape that slipped through alleys deep,

where only restless spirits dwell.

He paused beneath my window pane,

his fur a glint of midnight’s breath,

I felt his gaze crawl up my spine,

a dance between life and death.

No collar bound his rebel neck,

no master called his name at all,

he owned the streets, the night, the stars,

and ghosts that lingered by the wall.

He’d sit and stare as hours turned slow,

the wind would hum his eerie song,

and every flicker from his tail,

told me the dark is never wrong.

Some said he cursed the ones who stared,

some swore he carried souls away,

but I believed his haunting eyes,

just guarded what the shadows say.

For when he passed, the night would bow,

the air would still, the lights would fade,

and dreams would stir like silent smoke,

around the path that he had made.

So if you see him cross your door,

don’t chase him off, don’t wish him gone,

he walks between the worlds unseen,

a keeper till the break of dawn.

The black cat knows where secrets sleep,

where time forgets, and whispers grow,

and those who watch him long enough,

may find what they were meant to know.