Eight years ago

The rumor spread that the deceased was dispatched, a reason, to the morgue Last night, the dark spring and the dense night Whence the moon of the eve, sank beyond sight The mayhem arose with a wishful death, verily his own, to disown. The bride was sleeping beside-the newborn too. There was love, aspiration, moonlight - yet perception revealed A shapeshifter bogus boo, who? Why was the sleepy one then, awakened? Or, sleepless time, did not tame, so long for so long! the morgue would for the deceased! Aspiration declared this say, this sleep! With a bloody face and the mouse of the plague, drafter time Took her lap in the darkest night, the sleep, this time Never to feel awakened again! 1:37 PM 9-3-2024