David Bridgewater

Merseyside, England

The Last Chime Of Midnight

Shadows whisper to each other
Sieving secrets through the wind
Trespassing with the intention to introduce another whim
As night begins her journey evil settles in the dark
And they prosper from the flattery released by every sin

The shadows march in unison
Shedding lies with every step
Stretching towards tomorrow on the fingers of the moon
And over the silent wilderness they must prostitute their dream
To amalgamate peace and nightmares into an orchestral haunting theme

With a vile deliberation
They intimidate the weak
Stealing all the solitude while the children count the sheep
With a strategic manifesto every bribe is their belief
They offer out the olive branch and then rake the leaves of sleep

Amid the insomnolence atmosphere
Shadows bathe in the nights perfume
And midnight turns to greet them with a neighbourly interest
The shadows claim the moonlight and discuss their next foray
As the last chime of midnight turns the clock to another day
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