This is the new blog...CONFESSION ZERO


At night when we do not sleep
And the faces outstay their welcome,
When horrors touch our dreams
And we tremble their language…

The occupation of our hearts in sleep-
O! The assassination of souls!

And this; our death stained dreams
Carried by gloom nearer to us
Will ever be in attendance
If we nourish them in our days.

© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman

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