Felix the Shadow

... Beneath the moon’s indifferent glow, A black shadow prowls, a sleek tableau. Felix, they call him, the fearsome king, The whispers trail where his claws might cling. With fur of night and eyes of gold, He struts through tales the weak have told. “A panther prowls,” they tremble and cry, Yet he’s but a cat, beneath the lie. His masters laugh in their shadowed keep, Pulling his strings while others weep. “Go forth, dear Felix, our ominous knight, Make trembling hearts your greatest delight.” And oh, the pride that swells his chest, When fear turns men into cowards at best. They cower low, they shiver and quake, And all for a phantom the night didn’t make. Yet soon he sees, through glimmers and cracks, He’s no more a panther than they are his pack. The power he holds is a borrowed thing, A tune he dances, though they pull the string. But the fools are worse, who kiss the air, Beneath his tail, in some bizarre prayer. “Protect us, Felix, from curses unseen!” Blind to the farce, obscene yet serene. He grows to loathe their fearful eyes, Their reverence built on a scaffold of lies. “Am I their talisman, their master’s tool? A fool they worship, to prove they’re fools?” The fur still gleams, the shadows stay, But Felix dreams of another way. To shred the leash, to claim the night, To be more than the echo of others’ might. Yet freedom’s cost is steep and cruel, For breaking chains can sharpen a fool. Still, Felix prowls, a prince in his skin, A rebel caged by the fear within. And though the world may kiss and kneel, Felix feels nothing—he knows it’s not real. A black cat, a shadow, a fleeting lore, A king of nothing, forevermore. (Outro) All he can do now is to pray: "Give my life back, My lord! I'm sick and tired to obey!"