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  Jan 2015 writerReader
Andrew T Hannah
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeoning's of chance
My head is ******, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
writerReader Jan 2015
i hear her
crackle and her
cackle and her
clomping and
her stomping and
i feel her
silver hair and
her
rotten
air
writerReader Jan 2015
When I'm gone
will my name be
pressed against
the
stars.
Will
my tears grow
a willow tree filled with
twinkling lights?
writerReader Jan 2015
when I put my head of
silly thoughts on your chest
I think only: "this
is what love is"
writerReader Jan 2015
with your dancing hands
with your lithe fingers will you
calm my thrashing heart
writerReader Jan 2015
sometimes
pixies
whisper
in my ear
at
night
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