Poetry Blogs (terrors)

terrors (Remove filter)

Popular last 30 days

Her eyelids finally met that night, as they were about to conceive that beautiful child called SleepĀ 

There was a rattle in her bones as the Sandman whispered in her ear

"There will be no rest for the wicked and the dammed, My Darling, My Dear.

So what the Hell are you doing here?"

She never slept again.

Read and leave comments (0)

Nightsandmansleepterrors

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message