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This mad dream drools a flood of black visions
from beneath a burning bed
I am the only one who can shine light on them
with my white chain
and cool the essential flames with my sweat
I could run or crush these monsters
but I am weak and swim through a shadowy sea
and the smooth pink whispers eternally fill my ears.

 
   
The Tormented Cantaloupe Copyright © 1996-2004 Jennifer Haynes