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When The Lights Go Out by Stewart Stafford
When the lights go out,
From the seeds of doubt,
Phantoms come a-skittering.
Slow at first,
Then, as if a dam burst,
My psyche starts withering.
From a dune of sand,
Grabs a clawing hand,
My heartbeat takes to dithering.
Then an immovable object,
A vast shadow standing erect,
My paralysis is blithering.
But come the dawn of day,
I can finally break away,
My consciousness starts filtering.
© Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.
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