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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Dark · #2081024
What helps you sleep?
I'm sitting, quietly weeping,
Thoughts are destroying my mind.
Death is taking what is his...He wants everything,
Nothing can stop him.

He is sitting in the dark,
Red eyes are staring, and shining with fear.
Fear not of himself, but of the illusion of being in his mind,
Fear only the wretched can see, for they see all sorts of evil.

Each tiring moment seems like my last,
I'm being trapped inside this past to the point of no return.
My brain is forced to feed his images,
"Determination is the key," says Death.
From the shadows, I hear soft laughter mixed with screams.
The sounds are ramming their way through my ears.

In a few hours time, the night will soon be over,
Death will never go away,
Everyone knows of his face.
For he enters the dreams and nightmares of adults.
Children are left alone because they are easily deceived.
Now that the night is gone, death will come again.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2081024