-
her sheets spattered with crimson,
-
drenched with sweat.
-
I often thought I could hear the sound of darkness
-
as it stole across the horizon rushing towards me.
-
But here I...
-
I was overwhelmed by a sorrow so poignant,
-
when she finally died,
-
I felt in all candour a great release.
-
But it was supplanted by the return of
-
that dark and morbid melancholy
-
that followed me like a black dog
-
all my life,