The amalgamation within the horror's playground staged.A Poem by andrew mitchell
Right behind you
an unwanted guest - don't wake up when the lights go out - the hotel of thoughts move quickly the night manager and the things you find inside - a mind of furniture displaced. Behind closed doors once a pilgrim a shadow killed, and a smiling shadow - the woman in the window - the surrogate of broken thoughts from sticks and stones words whisper through walls the night you left - dark thoughts and sad songs perfect remains - the lady vanishes. The thought next door echoes the butterfly garden the sixth window a drop dead letter ghosts travel the fields of lost time - in no man's land calling from the grave the epitaph of a tear drops in the gallery of dark hollows. All the while in dark matter, the man with no face shouts. " Who abuses the understudy of common sense but some forget me not of the darker domain!" Then the curtain falls, bright lights shower upon the unexpected, people leave... the show is over.
© 2019 andrew mitchellReviews
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3 Reviews Added on December 7, 2019 Last Updated on December 7, 2019 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more.. |

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