Chesterton Dreams

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Life slowly returns as the darkness finally releases its drowsy prisoners. Night’s paralysis soon unleashes rippling convulsions of muscle, of sweat, of deniable confusion.
Words swirling into purples, worlds crashing into grey.
No thing make sense – except nothingness itself.
Yet my dreams are grounded in a reality far more concrete than my corpse will ever know

Please visit Grace Pending to read the full post.

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