Friday, January 29

It grips you
In the dead of night
Again with
Cliches
No room for fear
But like water
In stormy weather it
Seeps
In
No! You cry in horror
A terror erupts
Deep in the
Dark
Wicked faces and twisted
Claws
Like shadows following
You home
A bump in the night
Of the night
To the night
Soon dawns birds will
Sing the world
Into waking
And slowly
You drift to
Peace



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