Hiding

It's a nighttime thing happening today.
He shouldn't even be here but he stays;
He hates the light and craves the shadows,
Too bad the night is not his home.

He strolls the streets among the living,
Seeking his passion, his one true light.
But lightness evades him and the night
Does not serve this one at all.

He belongs to no world any longer,
Seeking a place to call his own.
He never belonged in the twilight,
And the daylight was foreign to his soul.

A misfit from the outset, he wandered,
Looking for a place to call his home.
Now he just moves about a bit,
So the shadows can hide his soul.