Wednesday, 11 November 2015


Wake up the mannequins
The time is ripe for words
Time to kill the silence
With ink
Time to walk
And douse these blank
Pages with blood
Spilled in the middle of the
Night, full moon, owl's gaze
Dogs howling
Amongst sounds of scribbling
By the candle burning
At both ends
Your house, on fire
The waves rising
Your mind,

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