Continuing onward with the theme of Fallen Grace with this descent into forbidden knowledge, this poem was written during yet another night I could not sleep at around 3am in the morning. Lying in the dark tends to bring certain things to mind which make it difficult to peacefully fall asleep.
Read while listening:
3 am— The Witching Hour,
The mind is in an endless scour
Crawling, scrawling…and again…
Crawling, scrawling…but then…
The truth will send you bawling
You must not do it, No—
There are Things one just cannot know
Yes— Such Things are better left alone
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crawling and scrawling is def how I feel writing late into the night! loved the haunting aura of this piece!!
This is so relatable. I am also an internet-addicted night owl. But I love the framing of this (yeah, probably) terrible habit as falling under The Witching Hour.