Today's prompt comes courtesy of g2: The Shadow knows.
Maniacal laugh not required, but recommended.
Who left this scratch upon my nose? Did it come from a thorn on that red, red rose? Did it happen while I dozed? Has my security been exposed?
Only The Shadow knows.
Why do you walk as though there are egg shells beneath your toes? Why are you striking such a suspicious pose? Are we about to come to blows?
The Shadow knows.
Does anyone know where this goes? Why do you suppose I compose this rhyming prose?
Not even The Shadow knows.