Sunday, November 30, 2014


Sleep was once a refuge, an escape hatch,
But now it is a place of dreadful states;
And in my bleak slumbers my fingers snatch
At black nightmares, montages of dark fates.

Cruel themes recur and bind me with their rope -
They tease me with nonsense and useless schemes -
Until I wake, recall that there's no hope,
And death begs me to gamble on its dreams.

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