In my deepest darkest being
shines a bright red light
It is filled with beams of my desires
With roots deep into my heart
And every night
when the clock strikes twelve
dreaming becomes an art
to remember the dreams
and to place them in my heart
where they
when daylight falls
crawl out of the deepest darkest of my being
into the bright shining beams of light
to become memories
of days passed by
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