Secrets of the Dark – a poem

The hyper unreal nature of pain

Sings tingling in waves discordant

Along those hidden lanes where dwell

Creatures of the dark, swelling

In their existence without the sun’s touch,

Minions of haphazard horrors in perpetual



Disbelief in what the eyes tell us;

Tactile impressions too fluid for

Belief to be close to probable;

Audio-visual ruination in the downward

Spiral, rifling along every slope

And groove, tracks made by repetition;

Blind motion.


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