The view woke to the breaking dawn
A sunrise through a roses thorn
A golden dew, a leaf turned brown
For what this day brings night pours down.
A fountain lake awash away
through river-bed through fields of hay
Upon a mountain beneath a tree
my future stands in wait for me.
A looming figure clad in black
A temprement of quick attack
A sudden slip
A sudden snap
And at my window I am back
The sunrise golden, a roses thorn
from my window I shall mourn
Breath like silver, heart like stone
distance seems to call me home
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