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In your dream you are paralysed, silent

Here's a shadow behind this mountain

Scurry down into the winter-valley

Dried up, shrivelled, weather-beaten,

Rock- hidden fossils, set in stone,

Evolutions of Medusa

Afflicted by a petrified decay.

All she gazed upon

Can never be rubbed away.

Such stains dry and calcify

Deep in these highland bogs

A quagmire-swamp of guilt, regret

Spilt water, wine, I forget,  what caused this, this....

disturbance in the weather

No transubstantiation this: yoked, ploughed,

Dragged, inchoate into death;

A process has begun

Welcome now obscurity, shadow,

Winter trees stripped,

Banshees scream into the wind,

A modulation of voice, a volte-face:

A variation of mood. A tattered lace. No man

Could have such bad intent as to awaken from sleep

These legions of demons that laugh as we weep?







Price on our heads ►


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John Marks

Fri 28th Jun 2019 23:01

Thank you kindly Devon and Do.RoThY. Your interest and quick wit give me the strength to carry on. John😎

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Devon Brock

Thu 27th Jun 2019 21:34

"Dragged, inchoate into death" - stunning.
"what caused this, this...." - forcing the pause, the repetition adds so much weight to the following line.

I needn't go on, your mastery of voice and craft on open display.


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Thu 27th Jun 2019 04:42

I had read about sleep paralysis long back. My mother often faced this, and the only thing we could hear was senseless letters of cry....scientifically or supernaturally isn't easy to deal with, unless someone is an expert.

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