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Sweet light fading, sinking the sun When the stars come to play You know day's job is done
Soft air stirring, caressing the tree When the leaves start to fall Life's dusk is what you see
Hard iron steeled, preventing a run When the cold fences rise You know your time has come
Future dreams dispelled, we've forgotten what was free As dreams turn to memory We lose whatever we see
Timothy Weiermann
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Sunday, August 03, 2008 |
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