Raw Senses Rondine
A haunting comes unexpected,
perhaps that’s the delicious draw;
Strolling the woods with a guffaw,
nature’s buzz leaves you elated;
Every sense may seem upended,
red bared skin on your wrist is raw;
A haunting comes;
Your pulse has become upgraded
put into pace by a chainsaw;
The blood curdling scream’s first law:
‘Leave all their calm devastated.’
A haunting comes.
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