A voice in the night

Pillows smell like apple flowers
With a pinch of cinnamon
Marine skies and yellow dots
Waiting for the sandman to come
The monster under the bed knows
Soon the voice will come
And the room will be swallowed
By darkness and shadow
Waiting for morning to come
Sweet sunlight caress the dead body




Poetry by Nyorioko
Read 688 times
Written on 2009-04-29 at 17:58

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