Randomly Thought
When a new life begins, many come to an end, steps forward on a trecherous path of being,
sprites of luck light the way, yet impish chatter shoos them away, where is the light during
the darkest of nights, where is my shadow in the pale moonlight, if the sun doth rise in the
east, let my path head to the west; eternal summer.
Copyright © Andrew Besag | Year Posted 2009
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