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Dark Poetry

Flight

By John



Turning, burning,
the world has gone black.
I listen, I fear,
my senses I lack.

Here I am,
where I cannot see
Feeling things
that cannot be.

I wonder how,
I wonder why.
Am I alive now
or will I die.

A chill wind
cold and awful blows.
And on its currents
a secret it knows.

But no it won't tell
it is dark still
and to it's pleasure
I bend my will.

So lost now
am I to the night
For only now
can my dreams take flight.

Blacklight

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