Cunneda

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Waking In Sweats




When all things
Were dead and quiet;
A certain horror
Fell upon me;
Beyond imagination:
A wilderness,
Without comfort,
Full of thorns,
And troubles;
The barrenness,
And silence
Of the place,
Unnerved me;
From the uttermost ends
Of the earth,
Fears surounded me.
Among the dreams
And shadows;
Pain, was the
Only window
Wherein anything appeared.

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