Poems Or What Happens When I Can't Think In Prose: INSOMNIA

Tuesday, August 31, 2004


O come let now my slumber be For night has come and day is done; The morrow rushes nigh yet I still wake and on my bed keep rolling to and fro. Beneath the shadows of night's descent my ear discerns the disturbing song of mosquitoes seeking to ease the pain of hunger for the fluid in my veins. O... Sign in to see full entry.

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