Steps in the night,
Echoing their way through my deepest void,
Strike pulsating wedges of fear in a screaming skull.
Hope is dead, destiny takes its course.
Traversing the introspective bubbles of a mind
The rents of a night stir the heat oppressed brain.
But Light is near, comfort is now around,
Peace and circumspection will suffice.
Michael O'Shea 5A
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