It was a night of oblivion
Obscurity and misconception.
The sky painted with deep blue black
With its flickering stars.
The moon is hiding her beauty
In the midst of dreary clouds.
And I saw you in my paper
When I am writing a poem.
My eyes blurted
Through lines and letters.
And it turns out as a nightmare.
I stop writing the words of sorrow
I crumpled my paper and I go back
In my bed of burden.

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John Krux bleeds poetry. He eats words for breakfast

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