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Victim of Night
I
am the victim of blackest night,
following shadows on
the even more shadowy asphalt,
fearful of
the white faces peering out at me
from behind trees.
Beasts alert me with
the crunching of leaves,
and the pound pounding of
my footfalls on pavement
alerts them of me.
Tiny pinpricks of nearly invisible stars
Blanket the sky while
the often visible moon is
missing from the scene, and
I cannot see.
My machine gun heartbeat
thadumps in my temples.
Under my breath I mumble
a few words of my favorite lullaby
for comfort.
I
am the victim of this hellish fairytale.
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