
Pixabay
Shall I write of the darkness – that around me closes?
The flickering candle’s very brightness the gloom absorbs
T’is not yet midnight, but darkness’ fingers creep
From their lurking place in the corners of the room
This is no melancholic dream, nor a depression of the mind
But uneasy realisation of the dark advance –
As the shadows encroach – over all they find
Padre
Creepy good!
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Beautiful lines. Hauntingly beautiful
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