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by Aearion Sep 25, 2020
Sadness, depression /
The waking fears pass the hour,
cloaked in their scarlet haze.
The bright new moon parts the showers,
falling to my drifting gaze.
A stifling scream an open book,
play upon my rampant mind.
Delving back to to dare a look,
the past holds things I hope not find.
The missing moon flies its course,
all across the drying sky.
It keeps me company, no remorse
These eyes won't close until I die.
I pray for sleep, I dream awake,
Knowing that soon day will come.
There comes a time to face mistakes,
To pay for things wished undone.
So give me things to laugh and smile,
rest me from things I have found.
Then take them back after a while,
and bury me beneath the ground.