Iambic Tetrameter

I am the night in which I sleep,

You are the beast that does not eat.

We are the flow within the creak.


I am the rug that which I beat.

You are the heart that does not weep,

We are the show, yet make no peep.


I am the song sung in the deep,

You are the doe who knows not heat.

We are the end, but are not bleak.


I am the man who locked his keep.

You are the morgue’s white hot sheet,

We are the cripples, yet speak nor meet.





//Disclaimer: this is purely practice with form, all characters are fictional//

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