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Ovi-Odiete Jul 2016
~
©

This Night is seemingly too long,
           as i sit espying from my window,
alone with the shadows
                                 And Voices.
I see the Night falling
            as darkness takes its shape
And Structure,
            the Night is Made.

A Baring Owl Screams
               from the back of the Fence,
       alerting every one of
the witching hour
         And the Moonlight moves on,
               shining and glistening,
          Radiating the dark night.
          The Sky holds no guiding Star
                    tonight
And men Sleep beneath
                   A
Strange Moonlight.

This Night is traveling too far
  As Anguish takes the better half of me,
                I sit in sorrow and illusion,
               Fighting a thousand fears,
that troubles me without a smile.
I slip into the Night
                          Saddened
                    The Night has swallowed
          My Glory
                     and here i am in dismay.

        Two Nights born from
                     A
                 hopeless day,
where pain and sorrow
                  visits with their
                        twisted hands,
Strangling and Manacling me,
          Who can Save a Wandering Soul?
          Where he searches for the other
               part of himself.
      Where
                two nights merge as one
       and a long journey emerges.

               Two Nights in one day,
Where my Screams Reverse back to me
                             And
all i hear are voices
                 Of Silence.
This Night is tortuous and treacherous,
        This Night is so far from home,
            This Night may never end soon,
                This Night may last forever,
                    We may not Awaken.


~© Ovi Odiete.~•
Originally written 2015©
This poem depicts the depths of MISERY and sadness.
The height of loneliness and PAIN.
The struggle and trouble that grows within us when we feel an EMPTY VOID IN US.
Its a sorrowful description of the most tragic phase of Anguish, where the PERSON feels lost, dejected and swallowed by the Man called MISERY.
Like a poet friend of mine wrote recently on her poem on WRITERS CAFE TITLED MISERY "MISERY LOVES COMPANIONSHIP, because Misery is lonely.

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