The minds hallway

Not every light is illumination

For some its a darker deep

where things are lurking on every whim

and the quill records every creep,

a mind full of static resonation

always swimming in shadowed air

sights and sounds of unseemly

here the author partakes of the rare,

but nothing is free that is gleamed

and the price too is quite steep

for every word that is written

the shadows in return get their reap.

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