Someone, somewhere, there is
lurking in the darkness,
in the stygian corners, secreting,
I can't descry, where eyes,
afeared of the ogres, repudiates
to amble.
Someone, somewhere, there is
who puts, every single night,
these ethereal dreams, cordially,
beneath my achromatic pillow,
whenever whacked with worries,
I go, on my bed, to sleep.
Someone, somewhere, there is
I am unaware of, silently,
munificiently, looking out for me,
in that godforsaken nook,
even in dejection, even in my
most morbid moments.
Someone, somewhere, there is.
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