It appears as a savage darkness.

A shadow heavily curtained, too lengthy

to draw back.

It’s a relevant spirit, a stranger,

though not on the street, but within us,

sewn into the web of our inner skin.

Voices with many faces.

Moods light and soft before


into bottomless misgivings and lies.

We feel it. Try to shut it down but its

like closing off the air we breathe.

Anger digs a deeper hole while the jester

laughs the rest away.


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