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THE DEAD LIFE
(sleep is the sister of death so I am told)
wake every morning
take a break from death
from the life, I live
inhaling immortal breath
uncontrolled vision
of lives lived in my head
most nights are dreamy
some nights are sad
fears of our days
under lights brightly shining
return to us in the quite
of solemn memos reminding
ponderings of undertakings
stood above ground
distant plains
amid hasty travels vastly abound
I’ve drowned many times
almost in the same place
searched for mother
who vanished without a trace
I remember this building
vaguely the name of that street
rippled roads, posing people
infirm ground beneath my feet
of curious consciousness...
'tis fateful demand whilst I sleep
wander as a babe in the woods
it’s meaning lost as sheep
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Copyright © Niyna DeSangre
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