When dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud
And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom
I have been half in love with easeful death
To cease upon the midnight with no pain.
Pain clings cruelly to us
Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep
Can death be sleep when life is but a dream?
How quiet death is.
[a cento poem is made from lines taken from other poems see http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cento_(poetry)]
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