I walked through conditions
In a mystic hour
Only sleepers know. Bright fogged;
Non-being's to savour.
Guided back to bed, down
A dreamy staircase
Of a winding road. With these;
Forms no flesh encase.
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Author:
james watkin (
Offline) - Published: November 13th, 2019 03:05
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
Offline)
Comments1
The ghosts of our dreams becoming reality - or not.
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