Sunday, November 21, 2010

Quiet Storm

Awakened and maddened


Alarm of voices

Banging loudly

And permeating through thick skin

Hair wrestling with pillow fabrics

Suffocating

And talking pillows begin to whisper

No longer a murmur

The screams are fading

The end is nearing

The sun is roaring

Targeting ashamed eyes

And mellow drifts through eyelids

Resting inside the walls

Adjacent to bangs once more

Covered in splattered fear

Her shell ascend

And mounts to the heavens

Frozen by peace

Or death

And whatever blood drawn

By the explosion of

An epiphany

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