Sleepless reflections

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: June 04, 2017

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Submitted: June 04, 2017

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Through singing trees, through hot air, through cool air, through grisly thunder

My feet become like blades at the end of spears,

Tiptoeing mirroring the path of death hungry vultures while the clock follows,

Soft pillows knock at my door but I do not answer.

I am the host to fighters worn out nerves plead but venomous thoughts show zero mercy

A never ending battle it seems each time the golden rays sleep they take root inside, twists and turns

A terrifying whirl pool of dark secrets, unknown desires, fears and I am spinning, going deep

I come back from the aches. The spirals weren’t dreams sometimes I wish they were.

 


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