The words that flow like a fresh river, as thin as silk, as thick as blood. The deep night howls with anger, the tears that stain. The hate that becomes real, the dark secret that lies in the light. The pardox of time, the song full of untold stories. Shied away from both the dark and light, one in the same. The terror in the silk, the howl in the night, the blood red stain in the river.
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The Nightmare
ContoSome of my more depressing moments over the years twisted with dark fantasies Short story copyrighted 2016 All rights reversed
