A cold, pale light streams to the floor
I try to noiselessly open the door
I fear I might cause my Lover to wake
But it’s a risk my soul must take
Lighting the candle, sitting at my desk
I grimace and cry at thoughts so grotesque
And as I fear my life is but vapor
My soul spills out – black ink on paper
Photo by Dan-Cristian Pădureț on Unsplash
Black Ink On Paper

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