The inner feeling

In which they are hidden

There’s no power of healing

The things that are forbidden

A little, tiny, very small

Peeking through the wall

Short, not very tall

The most whimsical of us all

Power we cannot see

The ghastly things are up for a walk

The prisoners are we

Suddenly we’re not able to talk

A dried fiend,

A false end,

At...

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