Leonora Bus


The Everlasting Sunset

Upon the cream of blue which surrounds all life
A beauty burns through and creates an internal strife
For no longer is she proud of the treasure she possesses
No longer is she valued for her gift, consisting of all life's blessings
No longer does she receive caresses from those simple frosts of white
Which she once spread her arms towards and painted their edges golden and bright
No longer does her stream of gold pour down between the leaves
Never did the trees struggle so hard to reach a

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