Shadow
Sometimes, it is like a high-flying kite, erratic; sometimes, it is like the moon in the clouds, obscured and faint. It is its ability to pretend to be disparate. Sober, beautiful, confused, and ugly, it fools them into the same face. There is no sincerity in its dictionary, but sinisterness can appear boldly. The night is its sweet breeding ground, and once there is light, it appears in its true form.