Folding into myself
an origami everytime
an origami everytime
the night darkens
her face.
I am on paper
a soldier of the night
who waves her sceptre,
sends me shivers,
to break me down.
P.S.: So I fight on, against sleep, or near-death, or whatever that numbing sensation brings, as the night wave breaks on the shore of my conscious again and again.
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