In the Realm of Dark Poetry
when the Poetess of Darkness calls,
she kneels before my feet
extending open arms to me,
silently beckoning
awaiting my gifts
my words of burden, pain, and loss,
given to her dawnless world
where regret is free to fly, hurt is free to cry
she takes her pen and forms the words,
pulling gently from my mind
then retreating to her shadows,
as the light returns
©2024 Noreen Braman
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