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Now take me down to my dark and sombre place
So I can write woeful words such as this
But don’t leave me there to give life to my thoughts
As I’m cursed with such soft and slender wrists

And hands that are capable of mastering
The medicine bottles infant safe lock
No more than three a day the prescription says
I peel off the label and down the lot

Now take me down to my dark and sombre place
Where skies are as black as a raven’s wing
And with no potential to spread them out wide
With my meek, melancholic offerings

Just a pin prick of light in the sable sky
Like the raven’s eye within its feathers
And as it blinks moments before taking flight
I am cast into darkness forever

Now take me down to my dark and sombre place
Where each word I write feels like burning wax
Slowly dripping over my eyes, nose and lips
Till it sets into a full facial cast

Leading to paralysis of countenance
Or at least indeed the absence of one
The candelabra embellishes my plight
But this wick of woe remains just as long
please check this amazing illustration from my good friend :icondariagallery: Daria [link] It is based on this poem. Go look at the rest of her gallery too. It's definitely worth it :)
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Submitted on
June 6, 2013
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