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
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