When your eyelids grow heavy,
And the dark closes in,
The dream-maker will come,
To trace your every sin,
He has no cloak of night,
No staff or curved knife,
The owls do not cover him,
As hands grasp about your life,
No weapons, yet he comes,
To seize your black-red tears,
For fuel he shakes your dreams,
As all he needs is fear.
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@naaviie
23, Vegetarian, (insanely busy) Vet student pondering about love, life and dragons.
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