The Dark Arms of Night

Written by Orchid on September 27, 2014. Posted in Blog

I tire but I wish not to sleep. For sleep is as an unwanted lover, pawing at my clothes it thrusts itself upon my person, wrapping it’s dark arms around me. Fleeting thoughts and moments of unspoken hearts fend off such advances with a fearsome defiance. Perhaps it is only a delusion, this love I bear, this yearning in my bones. I ache for things I often fear shall never come to be. And so I will not sleep, for it threatens to separate my soul from all my sacred hopes. Only the twinkling sounds of morning song in the blossoming twilight are permitted to send my body to rest which even in all it’s splendor, is unwelcome.

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Painted Lady. Brass Acrobat. Aerialist. Snake Charmer. Jill-Of-All-Trades. Nerdery Enthusiast. Show-off. Writer. Photographer. Doodler. Cheese, all the cheese.

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