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Michael
Poems
Feb 2021
Shadows of the Witching Hour
The stillness of the air in the dead of night
frightens me.
It is here I can hear my deepest thoughts
most vividly.
In these shadows I'm drowned; all around
they're hovering.
I say a prayer that an angel might be sent
here to comfort me.
Written by
Michael
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Bogdan Dragos
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