Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Terror of Night Sonnet

Terror of Night

In the wake of evening, without a drop
Of thoughts not sombre, my cringe falls upward
The empty inside filled up from atop
So that I can't struggle, can't scream a word

I reach back for my mind, beg my lungs to bend
The covers, meanwhile, are a-trembling
Yet I can't move so I try to pretend
This is not real, my mind is dissembling!

Nevertheless my limbs are lying trapped
Breathe circles over refuses lung
Squeezing me to death, in what am I wrapped?
My tongue won't budge but my tale is unsung

I can still feel night floating like a crest
That's engulfing me, and crushing my chest

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