#nightcalls
Nights get heavy.
When every thought becomes a curse.
Sleep is waylaid.
When every subtle nuance you begin to nurse.
Hours grow long.
Rest becomes a dream.
Seconds start to undo...
Every stitch in every seam.
Shadows come to play,
as their dance warps your grasp.
Demons come to say...
That you’re welcomed in their sinister clasp.
Dec 11, 2017
Dec 11, 2017 at 6:25 AM UTC