A silent night you say!A Poem by andrew mitchell
What became of the shadow
of the thin blue man the answer now deep inside, locked, deceased? What was behind the masquerade of ghosts but a gathering of mists, screaming in the night in the horrors ambivalence? Growing shadows living in the dark, in the echoes played; a haunting piano in minor key rings out from the cathedrals and forgotten temples to the clouds of night, above the hollow music makers. Sitting on a park bench, no stars tonight, you're not alone for the end is always near you. God rest ye merry gentlemen.
© 2018 andrew mitchell |
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Added on January 20, 2018 Last Updated on January 20, 2018 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..Writing
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