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Josh Miles Jan 2015
Darkness falls upon us like a black cloud

The noise so quiet, it appeared loud

We fight with every thread of our being

We flail without even seeing

The nightmares forever present

They fly silently like a pheasant

I'm overcome with guilt

It drowns me like silt

The monsters, the size of a tree,
Slowly creep upon me

All goes black

— The End —