The demons come once more from the pain. Taunting me with familiar pain. It seethes at my weakness. It roars with delight at my demise. The sun's warmth is gone away. The innocence of former youth, a distant memory.
The rain outside my lonely window beats down in staccato rhythm. The horses outside have finally stopped spinning. A beautiful thunderclap from angry sky announces a grand entrance, breaking the forlorn silence.
- R. Dinasky
Copyright: 2016, May 9.
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