Nocturnal Creatures

[A poem by Beleaguered Servant]
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The night knows its own.

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The Night Man

The night spreads out its gloomy arms
Embracing minds befogged with hate
Who linger in a shadowed world
Where sickened spirits congregate

They cannot come into the light
For to be seen is agony
The night will always welcome them
The dregs of our humanity

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