Drip...
Drip...
Drip...
It was that infernal dripping again!
The slow and steady
Leaching of souls
Seeping through the walls! !
Drip...
Drip...
Drip...
One more soul...
Big deal! !
He had stopped counting
Many years before...
He could have been
Anything he had wanted!
Could have been with
Anyone he had chosen!
Could have been
Anywhere he wished...
But instead...
He was here...
Guarding the gates of Hell
With the beast
Who many years before
Had ripped his heart out
And fed it back to him
Morsel...
By tender morsel...
Insomnia...
Can be Hell! !
(HW/18 September,2007)
Edgar Allen Poe and Raven...move over...The Beating Of The Tell-Tale Heart is moving closer...and closer...I hear it coming now...OH, thank goodness, it was only a dream...Wasn't it? ? ?
Edgar Allen Poe and Raven...move over...The Beating Of The Tell-Tale Heart is moving closer...and closer...I hear it coming now...OH, thank goodness, it was only a dream...Wasn't it? ? ?
you're the kid who couldn't think of anything witty to say in the year book get out of here? you had so much to say, but you ended up having a writer's block good poem
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dee, Sleeping is a slice of Heaven, some say, a slice of death. BUT, insomnia is a slice of HELL, exactly as you said! B.V.A.