the ugly writers

Nightmares

And the winds of the night that are ridden By the things that are old without age. Far beyond a mere man’s understanding, I have been to all places of dread.

Nightmares

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…