Running ahead of illusions. .
of a reflection in the mirror,
the dead are revisiting,
though in the least bit comforting,
I slip in my sheets lower
aghast,the ghosts remains in it's haunting.
Paranoia of darkness is riveting &. .
I’ld yearn for it once against the dawn skimming,
Visions would clear, my sleep be sound.
Till I broach across a mirror,
a reflection will to me scorn.
Dark abyss is home, I march out !!
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