The fading light, full moon glowing through my...
Outside all is shapeless, thick billowy clouds...
Underneath Your Bed
By Mark Spencer...
unit, nine,
status, active...
Greens lawns close shorn
Low sun shining down...
In winter’s hush, in darkness deep
A shadow snatched away his light...
Shadow is the name she choose for she was outcast...
Always supporting people from there...
A:
The wind’s begun its whispering...
On winter’s edge where shadows creep
When the naive lay fast asleep...
When srorms will rage and rain will pour
When the wind batters at your door...
The moon is a whisper
The shadows sway...
Wading out into the centre pool
Floating above the abyssal deep...
I feel like I’m cut open
It’s festering not closing...