Foreword: This is the consequence of around 5 months of writer's block and merely one sleepless night.
Sleepless, she lay on her bed,
Carrying with herself the dread
Of all the secrets the past holds
Of all the mysteries the future unfolds.
The walls close in on her, the air thins
As she counts all her sins
The list is long, she abdicates
The somber hues clean all her slates.
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