deepundergroundpoetry.com
Black Out
it is horrid
to be blind
visions descend upon me
hear the whisper of the wind
shadows on my room walls
just like a shadow theatre
dark and ominous
the way this silence its tumultuous
in hearing the sounds
of screams in a blackout
to be blind
visions descend upon me
hear the whisper of the wind
shadows on my room walls
just like a shadow theatre
dark and ominous
the way this silence its tumultuous
in hearing the sounds
of screams in a blackout
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