Ask 14: Restless.

A whirlwind of echoes, restless.
No one gets there peace so far from home.
Invocations stir the midnight hour,

This time is ours
Open the circle
Realise your form
Let teardropp angels guide your hand
Let them be your protection in times of need,
All i need is you, its the addiction I feed.

poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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