Beds turn Catacombs at Three.

Het Kapadnekar

That night, sleep came easy
But the day was not,
Soul escaped into numb chill,
After leashing flashes so hot.

As the night layed me on to bed,
The darkness tugged me in.
And self-defeating lullabies,
Light through my window did sing.

-Of Milton's mortal sins.
My thoughts, flails of a Dark Pegasus,
Over a sky pungent with unholy despair;
It's hair, dark curls of Lucifer's missus.

Heavy and sunken into the bed,
My chest heaved into pitch dark,
I could still see the moonlit- night,
A lonely raven cawing on a sad bark.

Found myself alone,
Laying in my personal grief bed,
Moon smilled creepily that night,
Couldn't move a muscle, like I was dead.

Branches cracked on the roof,
But I didn't move my eye,
Like a child scared of ghosts,
Waiting for the night to die.

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