Tortures Of Life
Late one night, almost twelve midnight
I sat alone on my bathroom floor.
The cool air brushed my skin.
Old habits coming back to haunt me.
Slowly I slipped into a fog, where I was not sure if I was awake, or asleep.
I awoke - at least I thought I did.
Strange noises came from my shoulders.
I looked up and on my shoulder
I saw a
But something was strange about these birds.
They talked. They talked to me, with words.
The Raven told me to reach up and grab what it knew I wanted.
Whispering how my world was slowly falling apart, whispering words of evil.
The Dove talked in a peaceful voice, no evil detected.
The Dove whispered in my ear, all the good things I had to live for.
The Raven stepped off my shoulder and glared at the Dove.
It spoke, in a language I could not understand.
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