Rituals in the Dark

There are things I cannot help
But sleep with in the night;
Questions unanswered,
People unheard of.
I melt candles from paths the fires forged;
Oh they burn blue.

Rest my head on satin;
Threads of thorns wound my ears;
At last I can sleep soundly;
Blood trickling to my chest.
My eyes, they are revolting,
Climbing the Berlin Wall.

A lash of love drowned deep and dark
Against the hollow middle
Between the bedspread remnants mark
Water runs in between.
Soon I’ll hear hums echoing starkly,
Whispering as I leave my body.

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