A Child of the Night

A Child of the Night

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A child of the night, standing there,
With gossamer streams of gold in her hair.
She only comes, a vision in white,
To visit me in the dead of night.
I close my eyes at the end of day,
And wait for sleep to come my way.
But then she comes, with gold in her hair,
A child of the night, standing there.
What can she want? How can this be?
That this beautiful child should visit me.
I feel her spirit, I feel her pain.
But a moment later, she’s gone again.
A child of the night, a vision in white.
Making me doubt my senses and sight.
Perhaps a dream, this child I see,
Perhaps a younger version of me.
A moment later, she’s back again,
Persistent and urgent, and in great pain.
She reaches out, she takes my hand,
And in a moment I understand,
For I must submit, with serenity,
And go where this and child leadeth me.
I feel my soul rise then take flight.
As I drift away with this vision in white.
No going back for another day,
For my soul and this child have slipped away.

Image provided by Shuttershock

To read the Paranormal Galaxy Magazine version click on the title Child of the Night

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