Inside My Mind
Seressia January 13th, 2006
The night speaks to me
In ways I can’t explain:
A whisper from a passenger
On a speeding train.
The moon sings to me
A lovely lullaby;
Full and frantic fever,
A chorus from a cry.
My thoughts come to me
Like weapons quickly drawn;
A cold metallic taste
Weighing down my tongue.
My dreams call to me
With potent promised pleasure.
Stretch me out upon the rack,
Exacting every measure.