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A creepy tickle on my skin, A cold shiver up my spine. Seven of them deadly – sin, Wind whips past a candle lit shrine. A darkness Grows and Envelops, A numbing daze a disconnected expression. No room inside as the Darkness Develops, Clawing at the water sheer desperation. You see it I feel it we live it together, Plunge deeper the well of hopes and dreams. Nature the Mother lest we never forget Her, The struggles precipitous terror the screams. I can’t help but feel I missed my chance.
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Written by
michael-kent-dobison
South African
Published
Jan 12, 2021
Lines·Words
16·90
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