Daniel Nwauzorma

Ghostly Solitude

Misty hue, a white dry dew morn....
Merry, in the mist of the dark blue dawn...
Moist kept at bay, rest in the sea...
And make the scorch of warm dry ghost flee..

Dry tentacles, grasp in my skin, the lone dead..
Sucking the humid flow of bliss in my head..
Flow from the north to the hinder east..
Dark vacuum singing in harmonious feast..

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