Photo by Pelly Benassi on unsplash
Dark side of the mind
. . .
Everything I touch
Turns to dust
Whatever I stare at
Will turn to rust
My hatred for darkness
Has turned to lust
The white daffodil
Shields its face
The yellow peony
Withers in place
My mind delights in
Their thirst for grace
Everything I touch
Turns to dust
Whatever I stare at
Will turn to rust
My hatred for darkness
Has turned to lust
A spider squirms
Under my weight
The big black moth
Is nought but bait
My darkness has sealed
Their tragic fate
Everything I touch
Turns to dust
Whatever I stare at
Will turn to rust
My hatred for darkness
Has turned to lust
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