Recess of the night

Sometimes, in the last recess of the night,
When the world is quiet at its darkest hue.
On the precipice, of the coming light,
I would lie eyes open, dreaming of you.
For within that dream I have told my lies,
With carrion kisses, my dreams foretell,
An old crows laughter and of my demise,
The solemn mockery, the cruel farewell.
Such madness falls, upon this tortured place,
As light comes streaming from the cobbled street.
I dream my dreams, and of my great disgrace,
Lay them quietly down, at your troubled feet.
How strange it seems with you I cannot please,
To find a heart, cold and loveless as these.

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