Wednesday, 1 November 2017

When I am summoned up in dream by my cold past,



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When I am summoned up in dream by my cold past,
Wearing black dress standing all in the long rows,
Falling eye drops and rising breath smoke, Aghast,
Blood coming from the eyes in bowing head pose,
All black with different faces, mirror of my thought
Running circle within the circle but the centre is one,
All reflect my future dark towns my soul caught,
Looking at the sight of fade hope into coals turn,
Emotions turn to blood, then one piteous sigh,
And anon terror prevails in my body and soul,
Looking all dead turning into new shapes all night,
Frozen my will and soul: under black power control,

Sigh within the sigh reveals, a new shifting trend,
But by deceiving, take not my curse, o cute friend,

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