The memory planted in me
Like vines of poison IV
It coils around all of me
The heart of aching dreams
The dark of wandering wings

The memory stays only
And the smell boils over me
Death is the only way
To light the nothing they claim

Darkness touches me
Still you sleep
Hands they try to take me
Still you sleep.

Wicked beings hover
like moths to a bulb that is lit
and they touch so numb
they speak so slow
take heart ach from heart flow

by Cassanndra King

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