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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Drama · #924244
Small, random little poem.
Random little bit; was part of a bigger poem.

Gloomy Cradles

Hide in silence; quake with joy;
Darkness eats blood red tears.
Ticking anger fills the void;
Clocks hand only a mere,
Seven hours past our deaths.
Would you dare to break the night?
Threats looming; gray and deep
Lay down, go to sleep.
© Copyright 2005 Amethyst (ssiapbilha at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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