...of an hour that once was young.bynewoldcentury©
And the cold clouds did shroud the moon,
That hung suspended over mortal graves,
While rare candles summoned some to life,
Amidst an ocean of settled darkness.
Such lights since have been my festive glare,
solitude unspoken, through the night to stare,
As years have sped to minutes,
Twelve seconds every one,
With you upon a number passed,
Of an hour that once was young.
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