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Untitled

My shadows seem a garden

of eerie delights

sensibilities run naked through

forests of dark understandings,

fierce rhythms crack between my eyes

- the silence of worlds.

My simplest ramblings a no-mans land

accessible only by virtue and touches

of insanity..

My laughter the tread of the devil

come to sanction souls.

My restlessness, a pit.

My misery a vein of gold, rich and

buried deep.

My music, a ghost piano swinging

from the hangmans noose.

My vision, forever caught in your smile

My time,

that part of the night

only attainable by invitation

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d
Written by
dean-jones
South African
Published
Apr 27, 2011
Lines·Words
20·94
Permission

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