There are so many of you
The demons of Light
I pluck one out
Shoot the other to smithereens
Still they keep popping up
Now my senses are numbed
My hand moves slowly
Being drawn like a moth
The escape is the distance
And the sheer death below
Even where you were not to be
You persist
Blinding my senses, numbing my eyes
1 comment:
Keep up the good work.
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